Outsider
by Siskin
Summary: Part 4 of Reincarnation Arc. After months of fruitless searching, Tasuki is found at last, by accident... but even Miaka and the other seishi may not be able to save him from a life gone desperately wrong. [Chapter 7 is up!]
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Fushigi Yuugi is not mine. Not making any money off this. Etc.

Warning: Heed the M rating. It's there for a reason.

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Outsider

**Chapter 1**

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"We're _lost,_" Miaka muttered.

"We are NOT lost!" her brother Keisuke barked from the driver's seat. "We're just…turned around," he added a little more weakly.

Karuko, in the back seat, was staring apprehensively out the window. "Keisuke, turn right at this next street."

"Are you sure?"

"_Yes. _Do it."

The turn signal clicked on—_tik-tak, tik-tak_—and Keisuke glanced both directions and turned. They passed a convenience store on the corner and passed into an area with very little street lighting, making it even grimmer and gloomier than the seedy area they'd just left.

"Uh… Karuko…"

"I know where we are now." Karuko's voice was flat. From the seat beside him, Ryuen glanced at him anxiously. "Just keep going. We'll hit the edge of the industrial area and then there'll be an outer road that leads back to the highway."

It was a cool night, but warm in the car, and the air conditioning was on the blink as usual. Miaka started to roll the window down a crack, but she felt Karuko's hand on her shoulder, and she glanced back at him. He was shaking his head. "Don't."

Miaka returned her hand to her lap. Karuko—or Hotohori, as she knew him better—was diffident, and rarely said much, but when he spoke, he knew what he was talking about. She opened her mouth, wanting to ask him how he knew a place like this.

"Look out!"

Miaka gasped and clutched at her sliding purse as the car jerked to a stop, rocking her against her seatbelt. Beside her, Keisuke was gripping the steering wheel, wide eyes staring out into the smoggy dark. Miaka looked out and saw a few indistinct figures in front of the car. They stood casually, and one of them moved around to the driver's side door. "Toll booth," he grated cheerfully, and rapped the hilt of a knife on the window. "Open up."

Karuko cursed softly in the back seat. "They're Flame Runners. We're in trouble. Get out." There was a muffled click as he unlocked his door.

"I don't think we should—"

"Now!"

Nervously, Miaka unlocked her door, and as Keisuke opened his door, she opened hers and got out. She glanced around. There were three more figures now, two in front of the car, two on each side, and each of them wore a jacket with bright red-and-orange flames emblazoned on the back and sleeves.

The one who had tapped on Keisuke's window had an unlit cigarette poked in one corner of his mouth, and a silver dagger earring dangled from one ear. He grinned at Miaka from beneath a shock of black hair. "Ooo. Nice. Let's have that purse, missy." He came around the car.

"Give it to him, Miaka," came a quick murmur from Karuko behind her. He was watching the gang members closely. Slowly Miaka slipped the purse strap off her shoulder. She held it out gingerly, and the young man took it and passed it to another. He snapped his fingers sharply, making Miaka jump. "Come on. Wallets." Karuko took his out; so did Keisuke.

"C'mon," a shaven-headed young man snapped at Ryuen on the other side of the car. He was tapping a billy club in one hand.

"Do it, Ryuen," hissed Karuko.

"You know, you guys are awfully cocky. How do you—_oof!_" The sound of the club driving into Ryuen's stomach made Miaka wince.

The black-haired gang leader's eyes turned a chill look on Karuko. "You know, you really don't need to be talking," he drawled. Karuko only stared back mutely.

Miaka's heart was pounding, but she found herself almost more angry than afraid. _If we were in the Universe of the Four Gods, Nuriko could wipe the floor with these guys all by himself, and Hotohori could run them through! _

The gang leader's hand suddenly curled firmly around her upper arm. She looked at him and found him grinning again. "You're not too scared, are you? Why don't you come back with us? I can show you a good time…"

Miaka thought she could feel the temperature around the car drop. _Uh-oh. _Ryuen was slowly straightening up, leaning on the car. Karuko stood silently. But both of them—and Keisuke too—were turning suddenly black gazes on the gang leader. _And he knows it, _Miaka realized suddenly, watching his grin broaden. _He did it on purpose. He wants a fight._

_Well, he's going to get one!_

It really should have worked. She'd practiced it with Ryuen for months. But the leader of the Flame Runners had apparently run into the old "elbow-into-the-solar-plexus" trick before. He twisted her arm until she fell on her knees, gasping.

That was all it took. Ryuen and Karuko lunged; she heard thunks and cries as punches landed, but she couldn't see who hit whom. She was suddenly whirled up onto the gang leader's shoulder, and borne off into the smoky darkness, the fight receding behind her.

When she tried to struggle he put her down and twisted her arm again, until she subsided, gasping in pain. "That's better," he grunted, dragging her back to her feet. "Now stop it!"

Her brief spurt of anger had wilted, and she was frightened again. _C'mon, Miaka! s_he said to herself fiercely. _You've been in worse situations than this! _She'd been in need of rescuing so many times in the Universe of the Four Gods that it was a standing joke among the others now. _And being alone with Nakago was a hundred times worse than any gang leader here!_

Then again, in the book she'd had the power of Suzaku to protect her from Nakago, to some extent. No such saving grace here…

_You're going to have to get out of this one yourself. Somehow._

There was a rave in progress on the lower level of the building where he took her. The music throbbed through the floor. He bypassed it, going along a side hallway to a dingy staircase where a couple of thugs grinned knowingly at him and let him pass. Up the stairs he went; another thug opened the door, and shut it behind them.

He deposited her unceremoniously on the floor butt first. "Ow!" she yelped involuntarily.

"Serves you right, you little witch," he grumbled, shrugging off his Flame Runners jacket and rubbing his ear where she'd managed to plant an elbow earlier. He folded his arms, glaring at her. "Women…"

She stared up at him. It was still dim here, the room striped with light from streetlights out one window and from a skylight above. In one corner of the room, a few candles burned beneath something like a shrine, but it was mostly in shadow. Still, she could see him better here than she'd been able to outside. He was shorter than Taka, but muscled, the smooth bulges outlined by his tight black long-sleeved shirt. A shock of black hair hung in his eyes, and an earring shaped like a dagger glinted below his left ear. Still, looking at him closely, something didn't fit. He wasn't the same as his lackeys, but she couldn't put her finger on why. _He'd be cute if he weren't such a creep, _she thought, some of her anger leaking back. She glared at him.

He began to smirk as he stood over her, and she stood up, clenching her fists. "What're you smiling at?" she growled.

"Aw, aren't you cute when you're mad." He moved forward swiftly, closing his hand firmly around her upper arm again; she drove her other fist forward, trying to catch him in the jaw, but he caught her wrist with his other hand, pulling her toward him. "Oh, no you don't."

_Damn…he's too strong. Now what? _"Let go of me, you—" That was all she managed to get out before he cut her off, his mouth closing hard over hers. She managed to get an outraged squeak out, but his tongue pressed aggressively past her lips, and his other hand caught her other wrist. She tried to bite his tongue, but he seemed to sense her intention and drew back, letting her teeth snap down hard together. It hurt her jaw. He tightened his grip on her wrists until she gasped. "No, you don't," he murmured again. His voice had softened and grown breathy, and he backed her against the wall; his greater weight pinned her there.

_Uh-oh. I'm in trouble. I'm really, really in trouble. _Her mind was racing almost as fast as her heart. Knee in the groin? No, he wasn't in the right position, probably anticipating it; the most she'd get would be his thigh. Not good enough. _Tamahome! _

Her assailant jumped suddenly, pulling back a little, still holding her wrists against the wall. Miaka blinked. Had she called out loud? She wasn't sure. Panic was seething around the edges of her mind, trying to break in. She'd stopped struggling, and he leaned in again, making a low sound of satisfaction as he began to kiss her again.

A vague memory swam back to her...sitting in bed in an inn in the Universe of the Four Gods during the time they'd been fighting Tenkuo.

Her head swimming after drinking far too much... alone with Tasuki, who was under the control of a demon...

_"Chichiri and the others aren't here..." His hand running through her hair, possessively..._

_Her sense of danger increasing through the alcohol haze as she pulled away from him... "I...think I'll go look for them this time...they're probably here by now..." Starting to get up, feeling profound relief... Tasuki wasn't acting like himself..._

_His arms suddenly locking around her from behind, the muscles rigid with tension, his voice harsh in her ear..."I told you... no one's coming..." _

_Being flung down on her back in bed... pinned...her frightened struggles ineffective..._

It was that memory coming back to her now, not any of the many other times she'd been in danger. Suddenly, it came together, and she gasped.

_Flame Runners._

_Gang leader._

"Tasuki, _stop!_"

He stared at her, motionless. She stared back at him, and didn't breathe.

"_Shut up!_"

The sharp blow of his hand snapped her head sideways, making her cry out. His rasping breaths hissed into her ear, which was ringing from his shout. _Oh God, I was wrong… He's not going to stop… _His hand clamped harder on her wrist, making the fingers start to tingle painfully. The tears that had sprung to her eyes when he struck her began to fall. She tensed, ready to try again to fight him off.

Then she saw his dark eyes. They stared without seeing, and his hand gripping her wrist was shaking violently.

Suddenly his weight was off her. He threw her wrists down as if they burned his palms; he staggered back and walked away from her a few unsteady steps. He stopped with his back to her, putting one hand up to his head. His breathing was still ragged.

Trying to quiet her own breathing, afraid to make a sound, Miaka didn't take her eyes off him. He stood with his back to her, one fist clenched at his side, the other still pressed to his head. He didn't turn around, and she glanced uneasily at the door. Could she…?

No, the guards out there would stop her. She didn't dare yet. She looked back at the gang leader. Had she guessed right after all? "Tasuki?" she whispered.

There were loud voices down below, and heavy footsteps on the metal stairs. He whirled around suddenly, dark eyes glinting, and crossed back to her in a few steps. He jerked her away from the wall and pulled her to him again, and as the door rattled, he curved one hand firmly around the back of her neck. "Shh," he whispered.

The door slammed open and the shaven-headed man burst through, and Miaka, through her angry/confused daze, saw that one of his eyes had been blacked and his mouth was bleeding. He backpedaled when he saw the gang leader clutching Miaka, bumping into one of the other toughs behind him. "Sorry, boss," he grunted, as the gang leader turned to look icily at him. "I just thought I should tell ya—"

"Get out." The hiss was worthy of a venomous snake, and the toughs retreated as hurriedly as they'd crashed in, the heavy door slamming.

She was released so suddenly that she almost fell over. He stepped away, and stood with his back to her again. His breathing had slowed. "Tasuki, please let me go," she whispered.

"Have you had anything to drink tonight?"

She blinked, confused. "…what?"

"Alcohol. Have you had any alcohol tonight?" The smug threat was gone from his voice, the question asked in a flat tone.

"No…"

He crossed to the nightstand beside the unmade bed, and she heard a muted rattle of a pill being shaken from a bottle. He stepped into the dingy bathroom, and after a brief rush of running water he came out with a full glass. He walked toward her, holding out a capsule in his hand. "Swallow it."

She backed off a step. "No!"

He heaved a sigh of exasperation and stepped closer. "It's a sleeping pill. If you don't take it I'll force-feed it to you. Now do it!" He kept his voice low, but glared, and she had no doubt he'd force it down her throat if he had to.

Slowly she reached out and took the capsule, and swallowed it. The water tasted metallic, but she got it down with a cough. He glowered over her until she stopped gulping, and then he walked away again, dragging the rumpled comforter from the unmade bed. He walked to the corner of the floor beneath the little shrine and folded the cover into a pallet. Miaka watched him, confused.

Downstairs, the rave went on; Miaka could feel the bass as a faint pulse in her chest, but there had to be some kind of soundproofing in the room, because she couldn't hear much else from outside.

She stared at him. She still wasn't sure. "Tasuki…? Is it you?"

He ignored her, grabbing a cushion from the end of the couch and crossing back to the shrine in the corner. He paused, standing over the folded blanket, and suddenly cast a sidelong look at her. The face was different, but the fierce/guilty/stubborn expression was so like Tasuki that she gasped.

He looked away quickly and tossed the cushion onto the blanket, then walked past her toward the bathroom. "Go lie down." He stopped in the bathroom doorway, glaring at her until she moved. She crossed the room and curled up on the folded blanket with the cushion for a pillow.

He vanished into the bathroom with a click of the lock. In a moment, she heard the shower turn on.

_Is it really Tasuki? It has to be, doesn't it? Why else would he have stopped?_

The shower ran and ran. By the time the water stopped, her pounding heartbeat had slowed, and she had dared to move enough to refasten her shorts before tucking her knees up to her chest. She lay watching the bathroom door.

When the lock clicked again, she opened heavy eyes. She hadn't realized they'd been closed. Whatever he'd given her, it was beginning to work. He stepped out of the bathroom, still toweling his black hair dry. He was in boxers. She watched him through eyes that didn't really want to stay open. They drifted shut, and she heard a drawer rattle open and closed and a creak as he sat down on the edge of the bed. She opened her eyes again in time to see him stand up and yank a pair of black jeans into place at his hips. Zip, snap. He turned to the chest of drawers again, and she saw a large flame tattoo on his back and a small shape tattooed on his right arm, but in the dimness she couldn't make it out.

"Tasuki?" Speaking was an effort. Being quiet was easier.

"Go to sleep." He started to look over his shoulder at her, and then crossed the room out of her range of vision.

She felt sleep bearing down on her like a heavy blanket, but she just before her eyes pulled themselves shut, she managed to turn her head, and looked up at the image above the shrine—a screaming scarlet phoenix.

---

_I've felt it ever since I was a little kid._

_In my house, you didn't talk about feelings. Pop didn't have patience for anyone's bullshit, from his offspring on up. Mom backed him up in everything, whether it was beating the living hell out of my older brother with a belt for breaking a dish or making me go without food and skip school until I apologized for cussing in front of Mom. _

_I felt like I didn't belong on this earth, like there wasn't any place for me. I'd dawdle on my way home and look in other people's windows, and it was like I was living on another planet, or maybe on the wrong side of a mirror, watching the real people smile and laugh and talk and hug each other, my chilled hands pressed flat to the cold glass. _

_I didn't get along too well with anyone else. I had a temper, and I blew up over small things. Other kids stayed away from me. I was sent out of class a lot. When I was really little, I could talk to my brother, but he was eight years old when I was born, and by the time he was in high school he was drawing away from me, spending more and more time out with his gang._

_And then he was gone, shot in the head in a confrontation on the street. And after he died everything got worse; it seemed like I was walking around in chains, knowing what was waiting for me when I got home. Mom didn't want to let me out of her sight. Pop screamed at me, or worse, every time I said a word. And finally I decided I wasn't going to live in a fortress anymore. I wasn't going to hide, dammit. I was going to get out and make myself stronger and find the guy who took my brother away, and kill him. Even if I died, so what? It wouldn't be too much loss to the world._

_But I made it. Every time I got knocked down, I got back up and wiped off the blood and the dirt and kept going. What did I have to lose? I let the hate take over. If no one cared, then why should I? That need, the need to be loved like the people I watched through the windows, shrank down to a little tiny spark. When I started to reach the higher ranks of the gang, I thought it went out._

_I made it. I'd cowed or beaten up anyone who stood in my way, until it was just the leader, and when I offed the leader of a weaker gang, he decided I was more of a threat then an asset._

_He was right._

_Then I had the power, and didn't take me long to find out what I needed to know. I found out the guy's name. The gang was the only one higher in position in the city than mine. I hunted him like an animal. He was as ruthless a son of a bitch as I was, and not too easily intimidated._

_It was a treat, then, to see the look in his eyes when I cut down his bodyguards. By then I was getting pretty good with a knife. He found out really intimately how good. And I mean 'intimately'._

_Heh._

_And just like that, it was me. I was at the top. There was no one above me anymore. I could have anything I wanted, anyone I wanted. I'd done what I had to do, and I was the goddamn king of the city._

_And I wasn't satisfied. I wanted more._

_Whatever that new hunger was, I couldn't sate it. Drugs didn't do it, though they numbed it for a while. Girls didn't do it, and believe me; I tried every permutation I could think of. Violence didn't do it; every fledgling gang that might have grown to be competition was efficiently scattered within a few weeks, and I usually had a personal hand in the scattering, but it never measured up to the feel of putting my favorite knife—Honoo, "Flame," I'd named it— in my brother's murderer. Hell… most of them were just kids. Vicious kids, but kids. Like my brother._

_Like me._

_I'd never been exactly chummy with anybody in the gang in the first place—I'd forced them to accept me by improving myself until no one could doubt my abilities—but I began to feel that distant pain again, like an old broken bone aching when the storms loom up—that feeling of unbelonging, of being an imposter, hiding among real people and waiting for someone to rip my mask away and display me for what I really was._

_And at about the time I stopped being able to sleep at night without drinking myself into a stupor or swallowing a pill, it occurred to me that from the top, the only place to go was down._

---

She was finally sleeping.

He stared down at her for a long time. The light of the few candles on the tiny shrine glowed softly on her face. She'd tucked her knees up to her chest and wrapped one arm around them, the other flung across her forehead. There was a familiar ring on her finger.

His hand reached out involuntarily, and then he clenched it into a fist. _No. Don't even touch her until it's time to take her home._

He tore his gaze away from her and crossed the room, opening the door. Taiten was waiting. He stepped out onto the landing and closed the door behind him.

Taiten smirked. "Finished already?" he rumbled in his low voice.

"What happened?"

Taiten shrugged, leaning on the rail. "I'm not sure. From the sound of it, Toru, Yuuji, and Shotaro had the crap beaten out of them by a bunch of white-bread college boys. They were nobody I'd seen before—the driver's ID said Tokyo, but they might not all be local. Piece of shit luck, man. Picked the wrong goddamn car to stop. Lost martial arts students, I think—Shotaro wouldn't know a roundhouse from a scissor kick, but from what he described and what I saw, at least two of those guys were pretty advanced. Couldn't place the style, though."

"Might be trouble again?"

Taiten looked him in the eye. "I don't think I'd want to take them on alone. You going to go dump the girl?"

"Yeah. Stay here; I'll deal with her."

He closed the door as Taiten retreated down the stairs, and then went over to pull on a tight black t-shirt and get his jacket on—not the one marked with the Flame Runners' sigil, but an old battered leather duster that would blend in with the usual late-night denizens of the city. He laced his boots and stood up, hearing the comforting creak of worn leather. He put on his black leather gloves and slipped Honoo back into its sheath on his thigh, and then turned toward the girl.

He frowned. She was wearing a jacket, but it was a light one, and the temperature had dropped some more in the last hour. He went back to the closet, and rifled through hangers, mostly empty. He finally pulled out a brown raincoat—kind of shabby, but it would do. He carried it back out to the room and laid it on the floor, and then, as gently as he could, lifted her onto it. She hardly stirred.

He wrapped it around her and then lifted her. _Why did I think she was heavy? Damn, she hardly weighs a thing. _He got through the door and carried her downstairs, ignoring the two guards at the bottom. Everything would look perfectly normal to them.

---

There was a park not far off the highway. It was shabby and overgrown, but it was all that the kids of this particular neighborhood had, and it was well used. He'd played here himself. A battered, graffiti-scrawled bench overlooked a rusty swing set and a slide with ivy growing up through the rungs of the ladder. The merry-go-round was missing a few of its handholds, prized off by older kids, probably the same ones who had appropriated the street sign on the corner.

There was a regular police patrol past here. He had it timed to the minute. He laid her down gently on the bench, still wrapped in the large raincoat. She stirred faintly and sighed, and he straightened up, staring down at her. He had her wallet in his hand, and he slipped it into the coat pocket. She'd get safely home all the quicker if the police didn't have to work too hard to identify her.

There was still a faint mark on her face where he'd struck her. He reached out and this time, he let himself touch her, running fingertips lightly over her cheek. He closed his eyes.

_I'm sorry, kiddo. I'm so sorry._

_Goodbye, Miaka._

---

By the time the police patrol rolled through again, there was only the limp figure on the bench, sleeping on and on.

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**End Chapter 1**

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	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Fushigi Yuugi is not mine. Not making any money off this. Etc.

Thanks to the folks who've reviewed—you are helping me keep this rolling!

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Outsider

Ch. 2

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It was cold.

Miaka tried to curl up against the cold draft she felt, feeling herself start to shiver a little. _What did I do, leave the window open?_ she thought muzzily.

"Get her a blanket, would you? God, it's cold in here." It was Taka's voice.

Miaka opened her eyes, confused. "Taka?"

She was in a hospital room, lit warmly by a lamp on a table. Taka was sitting in a chair next to her bed, holding her hand, his face exhausted. He sighed and closed his eyes in relief, lowering his head and pressing her hand against his forehead. She saw Karuko by the window and Keisuke at the foot of the bed with a blanket over his arm. They had a black eye apiece, and Karuko's hand was bandaged.

Memory swarmed back to her, and she gasped. She started to sit up, but Taka caught her shoulder. "No, don't. Just rest."

Miaka looked at Keisuke. He had a split lip, too, she saw, and a hangdog look. "Are you okay, Miaka?" he asked, coming over to the side of the bed. He spread the blanket over her, and sat down on another chair. "The police found you on a bench in a park a couple miles from where those guys stopped us. They called an ambulance when they couldn't wake you up. You had your wallet on you—your money and purse were gone but your ID was still in it, with your emergency contact numbers, and they called Taka.

"You should've seen Karuko and Ryuen," he went on with a wan smile. "They went berserk when that guy started to carry you off."

Miaka looked around anxiously. "Where's Ryuen? Is he—"

"It's okay, he's fine, just a few bruises. He went to get everybody some coffee—couldn't stand waiting anymore. He should be back pretty soon. Miaka… what happened?" Keisuke looked at her, and she could see his fear. "They said—"

"If you'd shut up long enough to let her get a word in edgewise, maybe she could tell us," Taka snapped. Keisuke looked away, lips pressing tight together.

Miaka winced; Taka was holding her hand too tightly. She looked at him. His shoulders were trembling with tension, and she knew that rigid expression on his face very well. She lifted her other hand to put it over his. "I'm all right, Taka. Really."

He looked down at her, and the anger on his face eased a little, letting the pain show through. He seemed to realize how hard his fingers were clenched, and relaxed his hand, caressing the back of hers apologetically. "Are you sure? The doctor said there was a sleeping drug in your system—you don't know what could have—"

She shook her head. "I'm fine. He…he didn't hurt me."

Taka's eyes searched her face, and then his expression closed a little again. He reached out and his fingers rubbed lightly over the small bruise forming on her cheek. She winced slightly, and he withdrew his hand. "Then what's this?"

Miaka reached up and touched the small tender spot with her fingers.

"_Shut up!" The crack of his hand against her face, the pain as it jolted her neck—_

She flinched and closed her eyes, feeling tears stinging her eyes and clotting in her throat. _Tasuki, why…_

Taka saw it and inhaled sharply. His hand on hers tightened briefly, and then it was withdrawn; he stood up so fast the chair skidded backwards with a screech and almost fell over, and he was headed for the door. Miaka opened her eyes and half sat up. "Taka—" He grabbed the handle and jerked it open.

Ryuen was standing just outside, juggling a holder with four cups and a cardboard box. He recoiled when the door flew open. "Whoa! Taka—"

"Get out of my way," Taka hissed. Ryuen grimaced and moved aside, and Taka stormed off down the hall.

Ryuen stared after him, then stepped into the room. "Sorry that took so long, guys. Is—Miaka!" Seeing her open eyes, Ryuen fumbled his burdens onto the table and then darted over to the bedside, hooking Taka's chair with his ankle and dragging it under him before he sat down. "Geez, we were worried. You okay?"

Miaka, still staring at the door, burst into tears.

---

It took her about fifteen minutes to calm down, and the attentions of her anxious friends and frazzled brother didn't really make it easier. Every time Ryuen squeezed her hand, she started again, and Keisuke looked like he was about to cry himself. Karuko stood off to the side, arms folded, his brown hair falling in his face, silent and haunted, only occasionally looking toward her.

Ryuen finally brushed her hair gently off her forehead and wiped her tears with his handkerchief. His red eyes testified that he'd wiped away a few tears of his own without her seeing. "Miaka… what happened?"

Miaka closed her eyes. Taka was too angry to listen, and he and Tasuki had never gotten along in the first place, but… "Ryuen…it was Tasuki," she whispered.

There was utter silence, and when she opened her eyes, Ryuen was staring at her, slack-jawed. "What?" he said softly.

"The leader of the—" She had to grope for the name. "The gang—"

"The Flame Runners," Karuko said quietly.

"It's him. It's Tasuki."

Ryuen swallowed, looking sick. "Miaka, are you sure? We've been looking for him for months… could it have just—"

"It was him. And he remembers."

Ryuen stared at her, and Miaka suddenly saw the same anger stoking slowly in his eyes that she'd seen in Taka's. She grabbed his hand, holding onto it as tightly as she could. "Ryuen, listen to me. He—"

"How could he? That—" His jaw clenched, his hand closed in a hard grip like Taka's had.

"Ryuen, he didn't hurt me! He—he might have, but he stopped—he—"

He wasn't hearing her anymore; she could see it. He didn't leave like Taka had, but she saw him curl his hand into a tight fist.

Wincing, she sat up. "Nuriko!" she said sharply.

He looked at her and blinked. She was scowling fiercely, and suddenly he was reminded of when she'd summoned Suzaku at last, standing there battered and ragged and bleeding from Nakago's attacks, but still strong, chanting the prayer to Suzaku in a voice that glowed with confidence. She was not a fragile person. How had he already forgotten that? He loosened his grip on her hand and patted it. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "Tell me."

Miaka lay back down, holding on to Ryuen's hand. "I'm not sure if he remembered before and just didn't recognize me, or if he remembered when I said his name. He…" She looked at Ryuen, and now she squeezed his hand. "I'll tell you, but please listen to the whole story before you get too angry?" She looked over at Keisuke. "That goes for you, too." She looked at Karuko, who had drifted to the foot of the bed. "And you."

One by one, they nodded.

---

Taka stood huddled in the chill just outside the main doors of the hospital. He'd left his jacket in the hospital room. There was a lingering smell of cigarette smoke from a few butts lying in a metal trashcan nearby, but he hardly noticed. He hunched as a brief gust of wind ruffled his hair and sent icy little fingers down the back of his neck.

_I wasn't there. She was hurt, and I wasn't there. And she tried to defend him? To say he hadn't done anything wrong? What did he do to her?_

His lip curled. _God, I'm never letting them go anywhere without me again. Those idiots. Keisuke, Ryuen—Karuko grew up in that kind of neighborhood! I thought he had better sense! Am I the only one who cares about keeping her safe?_ Idiots!

"You really oughta have a jacket on, y'know?" said a mild tenor voice right beside him.

Taka jumped. He looked up, and Keiji—otherwise known as Chichiri—was standing there, hands in the pockets of his dark blue nylon jacket, his dyed-blonde hair tied back in a ponytail.

"How's Miaka?"

Taka lowered his eyes. "The doctor hadn't come back yet when I left. They found a sleeping drug in her system and—and somebody hit her. I don't know what else…he…"

His voice was about to crack, and he stopped. He felt Keiji's hand on his shoulder, and shrugged away a little. Keiji's hand fell away. "I wasn't there to help her." He'd stayed home to work on a stupid model, for God's sake, if he'd just been with them—

There was a rustle as Keiji shifted his weight. "Well, you can't always be there, y'know."

Taka's mouth opened for a retort, but Keiji interrupted him. "If you want to be there for her, how come you're down here and not up there with her?"

Taka's mouth stayed open for a moment. Then he closed it. _Oh. _"I got so angry…"

"…you were about to storm off and find whoever hurt the person you love?" Keiji finished for him, with a smile. "That doesn't work in this world, Taka; it's the police's job."

"I know that!" Taka snarled. There was no response, and he looked up to find the young man watching him placidly, hands back in his pockets, rocking a little on his heels. He felt a little foolish. "…I'm sorry," he muttered.

"No problem. I'll go up and see her now. And I'll make sure she knows it's her attacker you're angry at, not her."

Taka bristled, but Keiji walked past him and strolled through the sliding doors, heading off toward the elevators.

Taka looked up along the façade of the building, frowning. _Could she really have thought I was…?_

He slumped a little. _Yes. She could. _He sighed, and went back into the building, moving in the same direction as Keiji had gone. He passed the hospital gift shop, and did a double take. He smiled, and turned back.

---

Keisuke had turned away, staring out the window. Ryuen's eyes were fixed on Miaka's face; Karuko sat at the end of the bed, hands curved around a cup of coffee that he held but didn't drink, listening with his eyes closed.

"Then he told me to go to sleep… and I looked up…" She halted suddenly, blinking.

_A small shape tattooed on his right arm… _Suddenly she knew.

"What did you see?" Ryuen said softly.

"The shrine," she said wonderingly. "Suzaku. He had a picture of Suzaku on the wall in the corner, a red phoenix, with candles lit on a shelf under it. He had the same picture tattooed on his right arm—I didn't see it too clearly, but I'm sure that's what it was." How long had he really known? More than anything, Miaka wanted to know that, but she stayed silent, thinking.

"I think maybe some part of him always knew, y'know."

Miaka looked up and broke into a smile. "Chichiri!" The others blinked—none of them had heard him come in, or knew for sure how long he'd been there.

He came over to her bedside past Ryuen and smiled back, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. "Hey, I thought I told you no more getting kidnapped, y'know?" he teased, tapping the tip of her nose with one finger as he straightened up. "Rescuing you was a lot of fun back in the Universe of the Four Gods, but I think this world's a little more dangerous, y'know?"

Miaka giggled.

"Oh, are those doughnuts?" He walked over to the bakery box on the table, which hadn't been touched yet.

"Doughnuts?" Miaka perked up.

Ryuen laughed. "I forgot!"

---

A few minutes later, the doughnuts had been distributed and Ryuen was sharing his cup with Miaka, who took her coffee the same way. Miaka, finding her appetite, had polished off one doughnut and half of another. Keisuke was chatting with Keiji; Karuko simply sat quietly at the end of the bed, occasionally looking at Miaka with profound relief.

"We called the police on my phone from where they stopped us, and went to the police station and looked at mug shots, but we hadn't seen anybody we recognized before Taka called my cell phone saying that the hospital called, and to meet him there," Keisuke was telling Keiji. "I guess I don't blame him for being mad, but I just didn't think. I forgot that Miaka's got his number on her emergency card now instead of mine. That must've been a shock. Anyway, we came from there to the hospital and that's when I called you." His eyes went wide. "Oh, crap! I forgot to call Yui!"

"I'll do it," Ryuen volunteered, getting up.

There was a soft, hesitant knock on the door. They all looked at each other, and then Ryuen made a face and went over to the door. He yanked it open.

Taka stood on the other side, looking startled. He held a large florist's bouquet of bright flowers in one arm. "Uh—"

"Oh, it's you," Ryuen said, turning up his nose. "If I let you in, are you going to be a jerk? If you are, I'm just gonna shut the door in your face again."

"No." Taka lowered his head a little, accepting Ryuen's upbraiding humbly, but his eyes moved past the young man to Miaka's face.

"Wee-e-e-e-e-ell…" Ryuen didn't budge.

"Let him in, Nuriko."

Ryuen looked over his shoulder at Miaka. She was returning Taka's uncomfortable look with a steady gaze. Ryuen shrugged. "You're the boss-lady," he muttered, stepping back and letting Taka come in.

Taka came forward to the bedside and shyly held the flowers out to her. After a hesitation, she took them, and he softly closed his hands around one of hers. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I got so angry at the guy that hurt you, I ran off to be mad and didn't think about being with you when you needed me. No matter how mad I was, I shouldn't have just left you."

Miaka's eyes filled with tears. It _had_ hurt, having him walk off like that. "I _did_ need you," she said in a voice she was hard put to keep steady, and Taka closed his eyes briefly in pain. "I'm still going to need you," she went on, pressing his hand hard. "So you aren't allowed to run off like a coward." He flinched and opened his eyes. She glared back. "You don't see me running away, do you? And I'm the one it happened to!"

Karuko's eyes were wide, but Ryuen was smirking.

"Miaka—" Keisuke sounded aghast.

"No. She's right. I deserved that." Taka raised his eyes from the floor again to meet Miaka's, sat down on the bed beside her, and gently reached out to cup her bruised cheek. "No more running away. I want to be here when you need me."

The tears in Miaka's eyes spilled over, and she leaned forward into his arms, heedless of the flowers being squashed between them. He embraced her tightly.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and the doctor came in carrying a chart. She was as tall as Karuko and had short black hair and sharp black eyes. "Hello, Miss Yuki. How are you feeling?"

Taka let go of Miaka and straightened up, flushing a little.

"All right," Miaka said.

The doctor nodded, and looked around at five other pairs of eyes suddenly intent on her. "You'll be happy to know that from my examination when they brought you in, you really are all right. I didn't find any evidence of sexual assault, and no physical marks except the ones on your face and arms."

Arms? Miaka blinked and looked. Sure enough, there was a pattern of finger marks on her right arm, from when he'd twisted it to get her to stop struggling. They had faded and hadn't given her any pain, and she hadn't noticed them. Taka frowned, but said nothing.

"You were very lucky, Miss Yuki. Whoever left you knew just where to put you—the police estimated that you hadn't been there more than five minutes before you were found. Most kidnapping cases I've seen don't get off that lucky."

Miaka nodded numbly. Taka looked chilled.

The doctor smiled. "It's all right. You can be discharged tonight if you want."

"Yes, _please._ I want to go home."

The doctor nodded. "I'll go get the paperwork. Do you need anything else? I can have the nurse recommend a counselor if you'd like to see someone to help you with your experience. And the police will be by to interview you tomorrow."

Miaka couldn't help gulping. _The police? Uh-oh… _"N-no, I don't need to see anyone." _If I tell some psychiatrist that my attacker was my friend from another world—no, I don't think so!_ "Thank you."

"All right. Good luck, Miss Yuki. Here's my office number if you need anything else." She handed Miaka a card, which Miaka handed to Taka. Taka put it into Miaka's wallet on the table. "I'll be right back up with the paperwork."

The doctor left, and Keisuke sighed heavily and sat down on his chair again. "Thank God." He smiled at Miaka and reached out to ruffle her hair. "I'm sorry I got us lost," he said humbly. "If I'd just—"

Miaka caught his hand and shook her head. "It's not your fault. And it turned out all right, didn't it?"

Keisuke looked at Taka. He was scowling, and Keisuke winced, but then Taka's face relaxed a little and he shrugged. "Okay. But next time, _I_ drive."

Ryuen laughed. "I'll go call Yui now that I can give her good news."

The doctor came back with the paperwork, and after Keisuke signed the papers, pronounced Miaka ready to go. After wishing her good luck again, the doctor left. Ryuen returned and took charge of the flowers, all of them turned their backs while Miaka changed from the hospital gown into the extra clothes Taka had brought, and Keisuke got her jacket.

"What's this?" He handed Miaka her short denim jacket, but he had another coat over one arm, one that Miaka didn't recognize: a brown raincoat.

She frowned. "I don't know."

"It was with your jacket."

Miaka stared at it, puzzled. "Maybe someone left it behind."

Keisuke glanced inside it and didn't see a name. He shrugged. "I don't know. Do you want it?"

She looked at it for a moment, and then nodded slowly. He shrugged and flipped it over his shoulder.

"Well, now that that's settled, why don't we get out of here?" Ryuen said.

---

_When I came back from the park I didn't bother to take a sleeping pill. I stripped down to boxers and lay down on the couch, feeling numb. Even the scent of the candles and incense beneath Suzaku's image on the wall didn't soothe me._

_Oh, God. Miaka._

_I'd come so close. I hadn't even realized how close at the time. I shook, thinking of it. Another few minutes, and she'd have been as soiled as any of the others I'd had in this room. _

_It'd been tugging at me since I'd first seen her. I hadn't thought anything of it at first. I'd thought for some reason I just found her more attractive than most, maybe just because of her obvious innocence. I'd wanted her, and I could have whatever I wanted._

_Oh, God, had I wanted her._

_Something had made me stop at one point. By then everything was submerged in that funny haze of lust that I'd been used to letting myself sink into without hesitation, but something—a sound? A cry? I wasn't sure, but it was like when you suddenly jump just as you're starting to drift off to sleep, right out of the blue. It took me aback. But nothing else happened, and I'd started again, wanting her more than ever—_

"_Tasuki, STOP!"_

_It hadn't sunk in right away…God, I wish it had… I was furious at being interrupted again. I'd hit her. I'd screamed at her._

_And then she hit _me

_That was what it was like; as if a thousand of her had just landed on me all at once like a collapsing building. I knew who she was, I knew who I was, I knew everything, all at once, I knew exactly and in excruciating detail how low I was. It hurt, I let go of her but it still hurt, my brain felt like it was going to ooze out my ears, and I couldn't look at her. _

_Then those idiots had to come in, and I had to frighten her even more, because I couldn't stand there like a fool looking like someone had just clocked me with a two-by-four, not in front of the gang. I got them the hell out of there as fast as I could, and then I let her go again before I could lose control._

_I had a few moments to think as I adjusted. And that was all it took to realize that I didn't want her to know for sure. God, what a mess I've made of things in her world. What kind of celestial warrior of Suzaku am I? I almost wished I hadn't remembered. Almost. _

_Then I looked at my shrine, and I remembered that too, I remembered who Suzaku was, why I fought for him, and why I'd always been fascinated with the phoenix. I knew why I'd had my tattoo of the phoenix put where it was, though I hadn't known why at the time, and why I'd insisted it be done entirely in red. And that wall scroll, just a cheap tourist gimmick I'd laid eyes on during Chinese New Year one year and felt compelled to buy—I knew why, on a thousand and one nights in this room, alone or with some other limp, drugged body lying beside me in bed, I'd looked at that wall scroll—and felt the closest thing to hope that I'd ever had. _

_I knew I had to get her to safety, as quick as I could. This wasn't a good place for her, and it wasn't just because of the rest of the gang. I still wanted her so bad it hurt. And I couldn't just stroll out of here with her. That wasn't normal. People would notice. _

_I put her in the safest place I could for right then, right below Suzaku's image, so that nasty little inner demon would have one more obstacle to subsuming me and taking what it wanted. She sounded so lost, saying my name again and again, begging for the confirmation that I couldn't give her. I gave her one of my sleeping pills and made her lie down, and as soon as she was in that place of relative safety I got my ass under some cold water as fast as I could._

_God, I hate cold showers._

_But it did the trick, eventually. I leaned my head against the cool tile wall and shivered as I let the icy water splash over me, wishing it could just wash everything away, all the filth I'd immersed myself in, wallowed in, over the past eight years._

_No such luck, but at least my body was clean._

_When I came out, she was dozing off. It hurt to see how she was lying there—all curled up, like a turtle gone into its shell to defend itself. _

_I got her out and got her to safety, and I said goodbye. I just hope she has the sense to leave it alone and not come chasing after me, thinking she can do something to save a life already lost._

_Then again, this is Miaka we're talking about. _

_I lay on the couch for hours, but I didn't sleep. I stared at the ceiling, and mourned the loss of what I hadn't known I could have until it was too late._

---

**End Chapter 2**

---


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Fushigi Yuugi is not mine. Not making any money off this. Etc.

Warning: M rating warranted for graphic description of violence at the end of this chapter. My sincere apologies to anyone unpleasantly blindsided by the previous lack of warning. I just didn't think. --;; Thanks to KittyLynne for the heads-up!

---

Outsider

Ch. 3

---

The apartment was very quiet.

The others—Ryuen, Karuko, Keiji, Yui, and Tetsuya—had all gone out for an after-dinner walk to a nearby park. It had been Ryuen's suggestion, but Miaka's idea. That morning she had quietly asked Ryuen to help her make sure she could have time alone with Taka tonight.

Taka sat on the couch, and Miaka lay curled against his side. _"I have to tell you everything, Taka," _she'd said after everyone left. _"There's something you don't know."_

And she _had_ told him everything.

Taka had listened in an increasingly tense silence as Miaka described in a hushed but level voice what had happened between her and the gang leader. She faltered, and he heard tears threatening in her voice, when she related her fear in the few moments she thought she'd been wrong.

"_But it was Tasuki. He wouldn't say it, but I know it was. He put me on that bench. He made sure I got back safely. I don't think he knew who I was when he took me, but he does now."_

Taka's anger was there, simmering, but it was under control. As Miaka described the shrine to Suzaku in the apartment and Tasuki's actions after his memories had been restored, he watched her face. _She amazes me, _he thought. _She's been put through so much, more pain than anyone like her deserves, and all it does is make her stronger._

The thought eased his anger further, and he sat quietly as Miaka's voice finally lapsed into silence.

_Tasuki, you idiot…_ Thanks to the kodoku, his memory of his disastrous first encounter with Tasuki had been completely lost. Even after he'd returned and tried to make things right, he and Tasuki had never seen eye to eye. Tasuki's frequently juvenile sense of humor hadn't helped. There'd been times when he'd happily have drowned the jeering idiot.

"_Ha, ha, little ghost, little—Ack! AUUGH! No! I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'm—No! Tam-aaa! Please, I'll be good, I pro-o-mise!" _

Taka smiled faintly at the memory. _He drove me up the wall sometimes; that's for sure._

_But he was one of us. For an outlaw he had a strong sense of justice—when something just wasn't right, wasn't fair, he couldn't abide it. He was the one questioning, asking why things had to be that way. _

_And after Nuriko died, and he broke down, I never got quite as irritated with him, because I knew how deeply people could affect him._

Taka heaved in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, and looked down at Miaka. _And now he needs us._

"So what do we do?"

Miaka sighed too, and snuggled in closer against his side. "I don't know, Taka. But we can't just leave him, can we? We fought too hard to get everyone back!"

He nodded, stroking her soft hair lightly. "If he really did just get his memories back, he's probably pretty confused. I got my memories back in chunks, with you and the others there to support me, and that was hard enough."

"We should talk to everybody," Miaka said. "Maybe one of them might have an idea."

Taka straightened up. "They haven't been gone that long. Think we can catch up with them?" Miaka looked quizzically up at him. "Didn't Ryuen say something about stopping by that new ice cream place on the way back…?"

He'd hardly finished the sentence before Miaka was up and dashing for her jacket. "C'mon, slowpoke," she laughed at him, "what're you waiting for?"

---

Yui had brought a Frisbee, and on the way to the park she and Tetsuya had finally convinced Karuko to play. They were out in the field, and Tetsuya kept trying to catch the Frisbee behind his back or with his eyes closed, or with his feet. He usually didn't succeed, but it amused Yui and the children playing nearby. Karuko was smiling, deliberately aiming the Frisbee to try to make Tetsuya miss.

Ryuen grinned from his vantage point on top of a picnic table under the shelter. He sat cross-legged, leaning his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands, and watched Karuko. _That's _so_ much better. He keeps so much of himself locked in. I can respect his wish to keep to himself, but then again, what's the use of being all closed up around his friends?_

"Oi, Ryuen."

"Hm?" He looked down. Keiji was sitting on the bench at the same table, ankles crossed, arms folded. He was watching the Frisbee fly.

"Do you think you and Karuko could find the way back to the place where the gang stopped you?"

Ryuen shifted, uncrossing his legs and scooting forward to the edge of the table. "I'm sure Karu could. He knows the area. Why?"

"I'm going to go see him. Alone."

Ryuen blinked. "What? Are you nuts? He's probably got two dozen goons around the place."

Keiji smiled faintly. "I can get in."

"Well, then you aren't going without me! I want to talk to that bonehead myself—"

Keiji was shaking his head. "I can get myself in and out. I don't think I can do that if someone's with me."

Ryuen frowned at him. He considered pouting, but that really only worked on Karuko and Miaka. "We can ask Karuko later. But what if they _do_ catch you?"

"They won't."

"What makes you so sure?"

Keiji gave him a look—_Drop it_—but Ryuen plugged on stubbornly. "C'mon, Keiji. You're our friend. We need to know if we're going to have to come and get you out of there, or call in the cavalry."

"You won't, Ryuen. I promise. Will you do it, or not?" Keiji was looking out at the playground again.

Ryuen sighed. "I guess. Yes."

"Good." Keiji got up and stretched. "I'm going to take a walk around."

"Okay." Ryuen moved back and returned to his cross-legged position on the table, but Keiji didn't walk away immediately. He gazed out across the park, hands in his pockets.

"He owes me an explanation," Keiji whispered at last.

Ryuen blinked and looked at him. "What?"

Keiji inhaled deeply, as if waking up. He sighed and glanced sidelong at Ryuen. "Please don't tell Miaka about it. I don't want to get her hopes up." Then he strode off toward the walking paths, leaving Ryuen staring after him.

"Ryu-u-en!"

He blinked again and looked around. He saw Miaka running up, with Taka following behind. "Hey!" Ryuen scooted forward again, planted his feet on the bench and hopped off onto the ground. As he'd predicted, she tripped over the concrete step. He laughed, caught her, and sat her down on the bench. "Be careful, would you?"

Taka stepped into the shelter and sat down beside Miaka. "Oh well… she wouldn't be our Miaka if she didn't faceplant twice a day."

"Hey!"

Taka grinned, blocked a playful swipe from Miaka, and slung his arm around her shoulders. Miaka leaned into him agreeably.

Ryuen looked at the two of them and smiled in relief. _Well, that's a good sign._ "So I guess you guys got everything worked out, hmm?"

"More or less," Taka said, squeezing Miaka's arm. He looked up at Ryuen. "So…what are we going to do about Tasuki?"

Ryuen pursed his lips.

"_Please don't tell Miaka…"_

"I don't know," he said honestly enough. "I mean, we don't even know if he _wants_ to come back to us."

Miaka gave a harsh sigh and sat up straight. "He has to! He brought me back. If he'd really…turned bad…he wouldn't have done that! He'd have just…" She gulped and shook her head. "We have to get him out of there."

Ryuen sat down on the bench on the other side of Miaka. "We'll see what we can do, okay? Getting past that gang won't be easy, Miaka—and yes," he added before her mouth could even open, "we beat them before, but there were three of them and three of us. At their lair it'd be—what, maybe six or seven to one? _You_ remember when we fought his bandits on Mount Reikaku back home. If you hadn't accidentally summoned Tamahome, we might've really been in trouble."

"Accidentally _what_?" Taka exclaimed.

Miaka blinked at him. "You mean I never told you about that?"

"Well…maybe you told Tamahome, but you didn't tell me since we got back together. Unless it's one of those memories I lost with that second dose of kodoku…"

As Miaka began to tell the story, Ryuen looked back out at the playground. Yui had spotted Miaka and was headed back to the shelter with Tetsuya and Karuko close behind.

Tetsuya was rubbing his nose as they walked up; his glasses had been knocked off his face. "Did you have to aim _quite_ that well?" he complained, not really serious.

Karuko was still smiling. "I'm sorry, but you _said_ to throw it right to you…"

Yui dropped onto the bench next to Ryuen and listened to Miaka. Ryuen looked around for Keiji, but he hadn't come back in sight yet. _What does he mean, Tasuki owes him an explanation? _he wondered.

Taka was groaning. "You changed Tasuki's talismans so that they summoned illusions of food instead of wolves?"

"Oh, Miaka," Yui chuckled, shaking her head.

Miaka grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, it was stupid, I know. But I'd written Tamahome's name on the last one… and then there he was." She turned a misty-eyed look on Taka. "So you managed to save me even when you weren't really there."

Taka smiled at her.

"So—who wants ice cream!" Miaka leaped up exuberantly. Ryuen dodged in time to avoid her elbow. Taka didn't.

"Ow!"

"Oh…sorry, Taka!"

Yui laughed and handed Taka her handkerchief for his nose; Miaka patted his arm remorsefully. "Some things never change."

Ryuen stood up. "We're just waiting for—there he is." He saw Keiji emerge from the trees and head back down the walking path toward the shelter. Keiji had his hands casually in his pockets; his shoulders were back and his face open, and he looked relaxed and confident. He rejoined the group, commiserated over Taka's bleeding nose, and teased the embarrassed Miaka. Ryuen watched him closely.

_I'm going to have to try and corner him later. There's something he isn't telling me._

---

After the stop for ice cream, the group dispersed. Taka, Miaka and Keisuke headed back to Keisuke and Miaka's apartment; Taka would go home from there. Yui and Tetsuya headed for Tetsuya's place, which left Karuko, Ryuen, and Keiji. From the ice cream shop they turned off toward Rock and Java, a coffee shop down the next street. Ryuen was a regular there; he waved cheerfully at the waitress as they came in, and she winked and blew him a kiss.

Keiji gave Ryuen a knowing grin. "Friend of yours?"

"I help her with her geography homework," Ryuen said innocently as they sat down at his favorite corner table. "I'll go get drinks—what's everybody want?"

He collected their orders—Karuko took a few minutes to make up his mind—and headed up to the counter.

"Hi, Ryuen!" Natsuko chirped as he came up. "So you finally brought those friends of yours, huh? They're cute."

"Down, girl," Ryuen chuckled, and gave her his order. "Karu's available but not really looking. Keiji, I dunno. You'll have to ask him."

"I like the broody brunette. Which one's he?"

"That's Karu."

"Aw, damn. Too bad." She snapped her fingers. Ryuen laughed and took his change and receipt from her. "There you go. Hang on a minute."

She stepped away, and Ryuen looked over his shoulder. Karuko was leaning forward, speaking to Keiji, his hands folded on the table. Keiji sat forward and replied. Ryuen had never had any talent for reading lips, so he couldn't tell what they were saying.

"Okay, here you are." Ryuen turned back as Natsuko put the cups on the counter on a tray. "Well, I'll come by on my break and say hi, how's that?"

Ryuen smiled and picked up the tray. "Great, Nats. Bring us free goodies and we might even let you sit with us!"

"Ha! You wish!"

Ryuen chuckled and went back to the table. Keiji and Karuko had fallen silent. Ryuen put down the tray, took his drink and flopped into his chair. He looked at Karuko. "So did he break it to you gently that he wants to walk into that gang's hideout all by himself?"

Karuko glanced at Keiji. "I still want to know how you expect to get in there, _and_ out, without being stopped. For that matter, how are you going to find your way to the right building?"

Keiji leaned back in his chair. "…All right," he said at last. "If you're going to help me in this, I guess you need to know a little more, if only because you'll be putting yourselves in danger too. I can pick up Tasuki's trail once I get to somewhere he's been recently. I'll be able to sense where he's gone."

"Oh, so you _did_ hang on to some of your powers from home!" Ryuen grinned widely. "All _right_!"

"Well, they don't really work the same way, y'know," Keiji muttered. "But I can keep the guards from paying attention to me. They'll think I'm someone they know."

"Oooo! Jedi mind trick!"

Keiji smiled wryly. "Something like that."

"What if Tasuki raises the alarm, though?"

"I don't think he will. But if he does, I can still get out, and I'll get back to you."

"You'd better be right," Ryuen grumbled. "I don't want to have to come collect you in pieces."

Keiji sipped his drink, and Ryuen remembered that he hadn't touched his own coffee yet. He looked at Keiji again after he put his cup down. "So…what are you going to say to him? You said something about him owing you an explanation."

Karuko had also been leaning back, apparently absorbed in thought, but he looked up and sat forward again, turning his attention to Keiji.

Keiji looked away. "I'm sorry I said that. I'm…not ready to talk about it. I'm not sure what I'm going to say to him. I'll know when the time comes. But Miaka's right—someone's got to make sure he knows we want him back. What he does after that is going to be up to him."

That left the conversation floundering in a glum silence, and Ryuen couldn't think of anything lighthearted to say to break it, so he finished his coffee, thinking.

"I'd like to do it two days from now," Keiji finally said, "and I'd like to do it during the day, in the late morning, because he might be more likely to be there. Are you still going to help me? Last chance to back out." Keiji crumpled his cup in one hand.

"I still wish you'd let me go with you, but I'll do it," Ryuen sighed.

Karuko merely nodded.

"How about I pick you both up at ten o'clock at Karuko's place?" Ryuen stretched.

"That's fine." They got up and headed for the door.

"Aw, are you leaving already?" Natsuko pouted from the counter. "C'mon, we don't get enough cute guys in here as it is!"

Karuko smiled over his shoulder; Ryuen laughed. "Another time, Nats. We'll be back, I promise."

Outside, Karuko headed off toward the subway station with a wave. Keiji started in the same direction, but Ryuen stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Hey. Listen, are you sure you can't tell me a little bit more? I dunno if you didn't want to talk about it in front of Karu or what, but you meant _something_ when you said you wanted an explanation out of Tasuki."

Keiji closed his eyes with a grimace of pain and turned his face away. Ryuen, surprised, dropped his hand from Keiji's arm. _What could've happened to make him react like _that_? Did I say something wrong? _"Chichiri, what's the matter? What did Tasuki do?" he said in a low voice.

Keiji drew in a long, shaky breath and let it out, and with something like shock Ryuen realized he was trying to fight tears. He fell silent, uncertain what to do. _This really isn't like him… what's going on?_

A few moments passed before Keiji finally spoke. "He can tell you himself when he comes back," he said quietly, his voice composed again. He looked over his shoulder at Ryuen. "Ten o'clock," he said, and walked off, putting his hands in his pockets.

---

Taiten had a bad feeling.

He didn't have them often. He was a confident man. But he was also a perceptive man, and noticing the case of bottles in his boss's apartment didn't really require that much perception. Detecting the faint slur and the sly, dangerous drawl in his boss's speech took a little more attention. Taiten started to choose his words carefully. At a certain point of saturation, his boss's temper would be on a hair trigger. Trying not to set it off took concentration.

As he reached the end of his report, however, he grew more confident. The boss had listened with bare grunts of acknowledgement; maybe he was further gone than Taiten had guessed.

"The police picked up that girl from the other night. Shotaro said they took her to the hospital, and nobody's come around here looking." He smirked. "Kind of a risk picking up a girl from a nicer area like that, but apparently it was worth it. Hope you got your dime's worth out of her—"

There was hardly a blur of motion. In the next instant Taiten stood motionless, mouth still open, the boss's favorite knife pressed against his throat. The etched flame pattern near the hilt reflected fractured light up onto his face.

Taiten remained composed and still, but his mind raced as he tried to figure out where he'd overlooked a danger signal. _Okay… he must not have been as drunk as I thought._

His boss had that smile on his face, and Taiten fixed his eyes straight ahead. One blink could tip things in the wrong direction right now. _I'd give my right arm to know how he manages to move that fast after four or five drinks' worth…_

After a long, long moment, his boss flicked the knife away and released him. The steel left a cold feeling against his skin and a small red mark that he noticed later. The gang leader sheathed the knife with a deft twist and dropped back onto the end of the couch, picking up his bottle again as if nothing had happened. "That all?"

"Yes."

The boss waved his hand dismissively, and Taiten turned and walked out.

At the bottom of the stairs, he turned and glanced up at the door above, which stayed firmly shut.

The boss had hardly been out of his apartment in three days. He hadn't come down to look for a girl or even just to look things over, like he usually did a few times a day. _"You _can_ handle it, can't you?" _the boss had asked rhetorically yesterday, smirking, and shut the apartment door in Taiten's face.

_Something's gone wrong._

Taiten couldn't begin to guess what, but he couldn't explain his boss's actions any other way.

The worst thing about it, he reflected as he went on down the hall, was that he couldn't do anything about it. At least, not yet. He could only wait, and hold things together, and if his boss came out of this funk, fine.

If not…

_Then be ready to step in… and take over, if I have to._

---

Keiji sat quietly. The rest of his apartment was normal, indistinguishable from any other bachelor's apartment. This corner of his bedroom, however, was blocked off by a heavy curtain, which gave him extra privacy and some insulation from ordinary sounds. On a small, low shelf on the wall he'd placed the phoenix carved of orange-red jade, as close to a representation of Suzaku as he'd managed to find.

He breathed deeply, trying to clear his mind and diminish the tension in his shoulders and neck. The incense helped a little, but every time he began to sink down to the proper depth of calm, the thought of the coming confrontation jerked him out of it and set his heart thudding fiercely again. Ever since he'd spoken to Ryuen at the park, one memory he'd kept buried for years had been trying to surface again, teasing the back of his mind, breaking up his composure. It wouldn't be denied.

_You're upset and angry, and it's not any wonder, _he told himself. _But you can't face him and be upset. You absolutely cannot. You have to be level, because you can't rely on him to be. You have to be open to what he's feeling—you can't let your own feelings smother it. _

_He's in trouble. He needs help. Keep that in mind. _

But his mind continued to twitch out of the calm path, and finally he gave up. It just wasn't working. _I guess I won't be able to do this until I let it out. _He closed his eyes resignedly, letting himself sink into a trance that enhanced recall, and let the memory come.

---

_The sorcerer had managed to open some hell-gate in the mountains of Kounan, and was letting demons in. First they had flooded the mountain passes—no travelers could get through alive. Then they were pouring down out of the mountains, attacking travelers and caravans, then villages. They couldn't be allowed to continue. _

_Tasuki happened to be visiting the capitol at the time, and they'd set off together for the mountains, using Chichiri's cloak to cover large stretches of distance—they couldn't afford to waste time getting there. Within a few days of the mountains they'd passed village after village that had been burned out. No one who had been in the demons' path was left alive, and the demons were growing bolder and more cruel, torturing their victims before killing them. Tasuki had grown more and more silent as they'd gone on. _

"_This motherfucker is _mine_, Chiri," Tasuki had whispered late one night. It was the day they'd discovered the dead family. They'd found the bodies at a farmhouse between towns. Men, women, grandparents and children…three generations, eleven people in all. Skin flayed off while they were still alive, then left strung up like grotesque puppets on the side of the house. Tasuki had refused to listen, even when Chichiri had reminded him that more people could be suffering even as they delayed. _

_They had buried all eleven. Tasuki had sat by the graves for some time, and he hadn't slept that night._

"_He's mine. Once he comes face to face with me, he'll never touch anyone else again. I swear it by Suzaku."_

_They'd reached the place two days later. The battle had been grotesque. They'd fought their way through a flood of demons, aided by Suzaku and Taiitsukun but still grossly outnumbered. Chichiri was using his magic to suppress the connection between the demons and the sorcerer. It weakened the demons considerably, but it was a terrible drain on his strength and left him unable to do anything physically complicated. Tasuki's sword and _tessen_ had been doing most of the work._

_That night, battered but triumphant, they'd finally reached the cave in the mountains where the rift had been opened. The sorcerer was there, barely recognizable. The demon that had possessed him to let its comrades flood the land had nearly drained him dry, and it was hungry for a new host._

"_Suzaku warriors," it had hissed eagerly, its six narrow eyes glowing a sickly greenish yellow; there wasn't much left of its human form. "Yes, come to me…"_

"_Right here, you son of a bitch!" _

_Tasuki had flung a firebolt from his _tessen,_ but the demon was magically protected from fire. The flames flowed harmlessly around it, and it laughed at them._

"_Wait! Tasuki!" Chichiri was weakening rapidly so close to the gate, but he thought he had enough strength left to close it. That would cut off the demons altogether, including the one controlling the sorcerer—if Tasuki could just distract the thing long enough—_

"_No more waiting," Tasuki had hissed, an awful, raging joy in his eyes, and his _tessen _had clattered to the stone floor of the cave. He had raised his sword and charged the thing._

"_TASUKI!" Chichiri's scream fell on deaf ears._

_The monster pulled its arm back and drove its elongated, barbed claws into Tasuki's chest with a spray of blood, stopping his rush. It slammed him against the wall of the cave, pinning him there. Tasuki's eyes were so wide Chichiri could see the whites from where he stood ten meters away…and then, incredibly, Chichiri heard a thick, choked chuckle._

_Tasuki's sword had found its mark. Its curved tip protruded from the monster's back. The swirling blue-black vortex at the back of the cave suddenly flared. It collapsed with a violent rush of wind and blinding, crackling bluish energy, and Chichiri was knocked to the ground. A long, high, keening wail came from the dying demon. _

_When the storm subsided, he managed to struggle to his knees and make a light with his staff. The sorcerer's body had reverted to human form and lay in a crumpled heap._

_Tasuki lay against the cave wall. His shirt and light armor were shredded and soaked crimson._

_Chichiri hadn't been able to stand. He'd crawled to Tasuki's side._

_Tasuki had still been alive. He'd stared up at Chichiri's face, his face white, mouth working slightly, breathing in short bubbling gasps. Chichiri had picked up his limp hand and clasped it tightly, and felt a faint, faint squeeze back. Then Tasuki had tried to smile, lips twitching slightly, and closed his eyes…and Chichiri felt that fiery life force begin to flicker and fade away. _

---

Keiji sat with his hands pressed to his eyes, sobbing as he emerged from trance.

_He didn't have to die then! If he'd just _waited_…just another few moments—_

_Damn him, why couldn't he listen? _

He knew why. He'd traveled and fought with Tasuki for too long not to know. But that hadn't made the loss hurt any less.

After a long time, Keiji got up, brushed tears from his cheeks, and slipped out of the little curtained enclosure. He went into the bathroom to wash his face; he sighed at his red-eyed reflection. But after the catharsis of tears, he felt calmer and clearer. He patted his face dry on the towel and emerged from the bathroom. Back in his tiny meditation chamber, he lit a fresh stick of incense and resettled himself on the woven rug, ready to try again.

_Well… I've watched two best friends die. Let's see if preventing a third death pays for all._

---

**End Chapter 3**

---

A/N:

The coffee shop, Rock and Java, is named after a favorite student hangout in the town where I went to college.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Fushigi Yuugi not mine.

Warning: M rating again, folks. Violence with some blood in the second half, and a little language.

---

Outsider

**Chapter 4 **

---

The chalk clicked briskly across the keyboard.

"Now, who can tell me what percentage of the curve is below the Z score?"

At the desk beside Miaka's, Yui's hand shot up.

"Yes, Miss Hongo?"

Miaka sighed faintly as Yui answered the question. _I think I'd better see if I could study with Yui tonight. I'm not following this stuff at all. _

She stifled a yawn and let her mind wander for a few moments while Yui explained her answer to the befuddled class. Miaka hadn't really slept well the last couple of nights, and it wasn't because she was struggling with her statistics homework, either.

_I can't stop worrying. Tasuki…_

Once again she saw in her mind's eye the haunted look he'd given her…that tight-lipped, sidelong glance, the emotion all in the eyes. _What could he have been thinking? He must have felt awful about what he'd just tried to do…but he wouldn't _say_ anything to me…_

A swift kick to her ankle from Yui's direction startled Miaka out of her thoughts, and she looked up. The teacher was looking directly at her. Miaka blushed. "I'm sorry, ma'am… what was the question?" Her voice wasn't quite steady.

"Miss Yuki, would you step outside for a moment? Miss Hongo, kindly work exercises C and D on the board for the class."

Shoulders hunched, Miaka got out of her seat and headed for the door. _Guess I'm going to get it now. Not like getting in trouble for spacing out in class is anything new to me…_

She went out into the hall and stood by the door with a sigh.

The teacher came out a moment later and shut the door behind her. Miaka braced herself.

"Miss Yuki…"

Miaka blinked at the unexpected sympathy in the teacher's voice, and looked up.

"I noticed you've been having trouble concentrating the last couple of days. You've really improved since the first few weeks of the school year, so it surprised me a little, but…please forgive me…I'd heard…that you were the victim of an assault a few days ago. Is that so?"

Miaka was thrown for a loop for a moment. "…Yes," she finally said softly. "But I'm all right. I wasn't hurt." The bruise on her cheek had gone greenish and didn't really hurt anymore. "I mean, not badly."

The teacher nodded. "Being assaulted doesn't only hurt your body, though, Miaka. It can hurt your mind and your heart, more than you realize."

_She means well, _Miaka knew. _She doesn't know that I've been through a lot more than that…_

"If there's anything I can do to help you…there's a crisis counseling center in the city. If you'd like me to refer you there, all you have to do is ask." The teacher put her hand on Miaka's shoulder. "I just want you to be sure you take care of yourself."

Touched, Miaka nodded. "I will. I promise."

Back in class, a few students eyeing her curiously, Miaka sat up straight and tried to put aside her worries. _Keiji and the others will figure something out. We'll get in there and talk to him somehow, and once he sees how much we miss him, he'll come back._

_He must be so lonely…_

---

_So far, so good._

It hadn't been easy, but he'd found Tasuki's trail. It had been much fainter than he'd expected, and he'd actually lost it a couple of times. He stood within sight of the building now.

_I gave myself two days and I still didn't quite think it through. I should have tracked him from that park where he left Miaka. I'll bet his life force has been stronger since he got his memories back._

As Keiji approached casually, two toughs came into sight. They spotted him and headed right in his direction, but he was ready. He'd fasted the previous day and spent most of the afternoon getting his defenses into place. Then he'd gone to bed early to make sure his strength was as great as he could manage. His batteries were charged.

As they came closer, he reached out cautiously. Neither of them was terribly intelligent or psychically sensitive. _Good._

_I am someone you know, _he whispered into their minds. _Someone whom you have seen before…and someone you know better than to mess with._

He'd held back carefully, not wanting to waste too much ammunition on them. _I hope that was enough—_

He saw the expressions dawn on their faces almost simultaneously. One muttered to the other, and they veered off in another direction, darting uneasy glances back at him.

As he came closer to the building, he began to project a similar thought around him. It took more out of him, but it was simpler than touching every mind individually. He maintained it carefully. The hard part was to look casual while doing it.

Several more toughs lurked near the door, but they looked sluggish. They challenged him only with their sulky, bloodshot eyes, and turned even those away from him as the influence of his suggestion touched them.

Keiji stepped through the door and into a dim hallway.

"Where are you going?"

A tall, clean-shaven, crewcut man stood in Keiji's way and looked at him with hard, narrow eyes. Past the man, Keiji saw several other gang members lurking; he didn't even need mental contact to recognize the way they looked at him. He was authority.

But this wasn't Tasuki. He knew that immediately.

He met the man's eyes. _Damn. Smart, and possibly a sensitive too. I'll have to be careful._

"I've got to see the boss," Keiji murmured, and gave the man a calculated nudge.

_You know me. I haven't been here in a while, but I am familiar. I am not a threat._

The man stared at him for so long that Keiji was afraid he was going to have to turn back. Finally the man spoke. "He's not available."

_Double damn. I have to do it again._

"He'll see me."

_Old friends. _Very_ old friends. He'll be very displeased if you turn me away._

The hesitation was much shorter this time, and the man shrugged. "It's your hide," he muttered. "Come on."

"Thank you." Keiji fell in beside the man. They turned into a side hallway. There was a tall set of stairs at the other end.

They crossed the hall in silence. Keiji was relieved. _This is hard enough without trying to make small talk with a total stranger…_ The aura of suggestion wasn't necessary anymore, and he dismissed it.

The man put a foot on the first step.

_Crap. One more—_

"I'd better go up alone. He and I have a lot to discuss."

_No need for you to go up there. You have other things to do. Everything is fine._

The man turned to look at Keiji again.

"Go on up." The man turned away and took a few steps, then stopped. Keiji's heart skipped a beat.

"Maybe you can talk some sense into him," the man muttered; then he walked off briskly.

Keiji turned his gaze from the man's back to the closed door at the top of the stairs.

_Well…that's the idea, anyway…_

---

"Do you _have_ to do that?"

Karuko's voice, uncharacteristically sharp, made Ryuen jump. He blinked at the young man sitting beside him in the front passenger's seat. "Do what?"

"Tap your foot. You're making the car shake." Karuko was staring out the window.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't realize." Ryuen looked out the windshield. The area looked a little bit less sinister in the daylight. After dropping Keiji off, they'd driven back to a gas station and parked. _"If you can't stay in one place until I get back, don't worry about it," _he'd said. _ " I'll find my way back to you."_

Ryuen looked back at Karuko, who had retreated into tense silence and didn't appear to have moved a muscle. _There he goes again. Hmph…now that I think about it, for someone who doesn't talk much, he's been pretty handy at distracting me when I try to pin him down. _

_Well… he's got nowhere to escape to right now. _

"Hey…have you been all right, Karu?"

Karuko looked down at his folded arms. "…What do you mean?"

"I mean _that_. You're not the chatterbox I am, but lately getting you to talk has been _way_ too much like work. And you can't blame it on worrying about Tasuki, because it's been going on for months."

Karuko was looking out the window again. "Do we have to talk about this right _now_?"

"Well, no, but you're here, I'm here, we've got nothing else to do, and if I sit here much longer with nothing to distract me, I'm going to go nuts. So it's either talk to you, or start tapping my foot again."

Karuko angled a look at him. "Ryuen…"

"Yes, 'sire'?" Ryuen beamed and batted his eyes.

Karuko looked away. "Don't _do_ that," he muttered, but Ryuen could see him trying not to smile. _Ha! Works every time._

"Do what, get a smile out of you for once? C'mon, Karu, throw me a bone, here. What's going on?"

Karuko's smile lingered for a few moments, then faded. He was silent for a long time. Ryuen was drawing breath to try again when Karuko finally spoke. "I miss Houki."

Ryuen sat with his mouth open. _Well, that came right out of left field…He's never even mentioned her before. I wasn't even sure he'd remembered her._

"We had so little time. Months, only." Karuko's voice grew quieter, and Ryuen felt a chill up his back. "Then I was foolish enough to get myself killed…" Karuko sighed faintly and closed his eyes.

Karuko had never sounded much like Hotohori when he spoke. Karuko's voice was lighter in timbre, his style of speech different.

As Karuko's voice slipped back into the old formal, regal cadence, deepening and softening into a perfect imitation of Hotohori's, Ryuen felt as if he were listening to the voice of a ghost. _I don't think he even knows he's doing it, _Ryuen thought in wonder, eyes fixed on the profile of his friend's face.

"I may have been doing my duty as a celestial warrior and as an emperor when I fought Nakago, but I certainly failed my duty as a husband. And as a father.

"I abandoned them. We could have had years together, had I not been so rash."

The stern self-judgment in that voice was painful to Ryuen. _He's been walking around with _that_ in his head all this time? _

_What can I even say to him?_

Karuko's face was tense, and he said no more. After a moment, Ryuen took one hand off the wheel and laid it on Karuko's arm.

Karuko drew in a sharp, quick breath, as if in pain, and opened his eyes. He turned his head to look at Ryuen. His eyes were dry, but still grieved.

"You did what you had to do. Houki knew that. Don't you remember seeing her again when we were fighting Tenkou? She forgave you."

Ryuen watched Karuko's eyes. Wary reluctance. _Yes, he remembers. He's just kept it all locked in for so long that he's been going in circles. _

_Well, let's see if I can't kickstart him in a new direction._

"Would Houki want you to cut yourself off from everyone? She wouldn't want you to be alone, would she?"

Karuko lowered his face. He stared at his folded arms again, which, to Ryuen's eyes, had the effect of a shield gripped tightly in front of him. _Uh-oh. I didn't mean to make him defensive. _

_All right, new approach. _He took his hand from Karuko's shoulder and leaned a bit closer to catch Karuko's chin with his other hand. He turned the young man's face, making Karuko look him in the eye.

Karuko stared at him, eyes widening a little in surprise.

"Your responsibility to Houki and Boushin was fulfilled when we defeated Tenkou," Ryuen said firmly. "You paid your debt, Hotohori. I'm not saying don't miss Houki, because you can't turn that on and off. We all understand that. But you have a new responsibility now. To your friends, and to yourself. And don't you think she'd want you to fulfill that one too?"

Karuko still said nothing, but his guarded expression had turned thoughtful. Ryuen relaxed, smiled, and withdrew his hand.

Karuko smiled faintly and gazed forward out the windshield. "…I knew that, I suppose."

"Of course you did. You were just too caught up in blaming yourself for everything for it to sink in. That's just like you, y'know." Ryuen peered out the windshield again. Inside the gas station, the attendant was watching them mistrustfully. "Now, for right this minute, I think you'd better focus that all that worry toward what you want to eat, 'cause I think we're moving on to that fast food place I saw up the street, before we get busted for the big bad drug dealers we obviously look like."

Ryuen started the car as Karuko chuckled, and pulled out of the parking lot. Once they were waiting in the drive-thru lineup at the restaurant, Ryuen felt a brief nudge to his shoulder, and looked toward Karuko. "Hm?"

"Thank you. For the advice." Karuko was smiling openly.

Absurdly pleased, Ryuen gave him a 100-watt smile in return. "Hey, you'd do the same for me." As the cars in line advanced a little, he pulled forward, and reached for his pocket—and did a double take. _Well, crap. _"Uh…maybe you can repay me right now—eheh…looks like I forgot my wallet."

Karuko was already taking out his own wallet as he rolled his eyes with a twisted smile.

Ryuen grinned sheepishly. "Hope Keiji's doing better than I am."

---

The door, well oiled, eased silently open under Keiji's hand. He stepped inside, and closed the door soundlessly behind him.

The room was dark in spite of the sunlight outside. Heavy blinds and drapes covered the windows. A barred skylight overhead cast a meager, striped patch of light on the floor.

_All right…where is he?_

As his eyes adjusted, Keiji stretched his senses out—and felt his heart sink toward his boots.

The room was hashmarked with trails and remnants of Tasuki's familiar life force, but…

_Did I miss him after all?_

Keiji inhaled—and smelled candle smoke. His gaze darted to the opposite corner of the room, where Miaka had described the shrine to Suzaku. He could see the white shelf on the wall, though not the image above it.

The shelf with three candles still smoking.

Keiji's eyes widened. _He's—_

Movement—

A high, singing metal whisper—

Keiji threw himself to the right—an intense, stabbing pain crackled out from his left shoulder. He hit the floor, rolled, and lit the room with a chi flare.

The dingy dimness of the room turned to the feverish glare of the heart of a volcano; Keiji's scarlet aura burst into full brightness and leaped out to fill every corner. He heard a grunt. Indistinctly, he could see a man on the other side of the room, shielding his eyes.

Movement again—Keiji rolled and something flickered past his ear to thunk into the wall behind him. _How the hell is he _doing_ that when he can't see? _I _can hardly see, and I'm the one making all the light!_

Keiji was beginning to get irritated.

In an instant's concentration he formed that irritation into a crackling sphere that materialized in front of him, livid crimson. With a two-handed gesture that sent another wash of pain from his shoulder down his left arm, Keiji sent the chi bolt flying; he heard a groan, and then a thud as the other man fell.

Keiji slowly got to his feet, trying not to use his left arm, and let his aura fade to a more reasonable glow around him. He glanced down and swallowed hard. A wicked little throwing knife was buried to the hilt in his left shoulder. He tried to direct a little of his energy toward pain control, but there wasn't a lot left to spare. _I wasted too much on the flare. Way to go, Chichiri._

The other man was already moving, moaning, trying to get up; he was shaking. _Hit him hard, did I? _Keiji felt a pang of guilt, but with the knife seeming to glow white-hot in his shoulder, the sentiment was a little weak. _It won't hurt him any more than that swill he used to drink. Constitution of an ox. Thick skull thrown in gratis._

He managed to keep his voice flat. "You throw another of those knives at me, and I'll make you eat it, Tasuki."

Keiji paced forward slowly. He stretched out again, trying to get a fix on Tasuki…and he still felt nothing. No aura, familiar or otherwise. To his sixth sense, Tasuki simply wasn't there. _What the hell…?_

Tasuki rose unsteadily to his feet and glared. The glow of Keiji's aura was still bright enough to reflect from Tasuki's skin and from his black hair, making it gleam red. It glowed in his eyes. It also glimmered on the keen edge of another, larger knife in Tasuki's hand.

He was dressed only in jeans, his feet were bare, and his hair fell uncombed into his eyes. His face was hard and wary. He stared for a moment at the knife still in Keiji's shoulder, then at Keiji's composed face.

Actually it hurt like hell, and he was starting to sweat, but Keiji didn't dare deal with it right now. _If I take it out, I'll have to either physically stop the bleeding or concentrate some chi to that area to make it clot faster. Either way takes time…I'm not sure what he's going to do if I show any weakness._

He stopped three meters from Tasuki… and he _still_ couldn't sense him.

_He's learned how to mask his life force, _Keiji finally realized with an inward jolt of surprise. _How the hell did he learn to do that? I could never get him to sit still for so much as a breathing exercise. No wonder his trail was hard to follow._

Tasuki was still on the defensive, not giving anything away. He shifted his weight. His foot bumped against an empty bottle on the floor; it rolled a bit and clinked against an identical bottle beside it.

Keiji spared them an instant's glance and looked back at Tasuki, eyebrows rising. _…It can't be._

He moved forward swiftly—there was a flicker of reaction in Tasuki's eyes from within the stony mask. Tasuki lunged, the knife beginning to move, but Keiji wasn't aiming where Tasuki thought he was. He ducked the knife and grabbed for Tasuki's forearm; in a dizzying swirl he had Tasuki restrained against him in an arm lock.

Keiji's left arm and shoulder felt like a live electrical wire. Tasuki was breathing harshly, still clinging to the knife even though his hand had to be going numb. He grunted and fought, testing Keiji's hold. Keiji hung on grimly. _Dammit. I'm starting to run out of steam. I'm not going to be able to hold him very long. _He could feel a slow trickle of warmth down his side beneath his shirt.

"Tasuki," Keiji muttered through gritted teeth into Tasuki's ear, "I don't mind telling you that my shoulder hurts like a bitch and I'd _really_ like to let go of you, but I'm not going to do it until you drop the knife."

He could feel Tasuki's breaths rasping in and out. He could also smell alcohol on him. _He's _drunk, _and he still almost skewered me. _Keiji was chilled, but he didn't loosen his grip, though the pain in his arm and shoulder was growing with every instant.

_Come on…don't call my bluff, Tasuki. I could break your arm right now if I wanted to, but if I have to go that far, then I'll know my coming here was pointless. _Sweat dripped into Keiji's eyes, stinging, and he tried to blink it away. He closed his eyes, and felt them stinging with more than sweat as he felt his endurance approaching its limit. _Come on…_

Tasuki suddenly twitched again in Keiji's grasp, and with a sick heart, Keiji tried to muster one more ounce of strength. _I didn't want to do this…_

_—flames—a bonfire, a conflagration—rising, crackling up around him, dancing—_

Keiji gasped slightly as Tasuki's life force suddenly flared and poured over his heightened senses. _What—_

The knife clattered to the floor.

A little dazed, Keiji released the arm lock. Tasuki slid to his knees on the floor, hunched over. Keiji had the presence of mind to kick the knife out of reach just in case. A dangerous grayness was teasing around the edges of his consciousness, and his head was starting to swim.

_All right. Time to take care of this and oh my god is this going to hurt…_

He checked on Tasuki one more time, but didn't see any immediate threat in him. _That's going to have to be good enough—_

He closed his eyes and sank down on the floor a few feet from Tasuki. He directed as much energy as he could toward the wound. _I hope I don't pass out… _He closed his right hand around the knife hilt in his shoulder.

---

The next thing he knew, he was lying down on something much softer than the floor.

_Ugh…what?_

"Hmph. Idiot."

_Yeah. I passed out._

Keiji opened his eyes. He was on the couch. His coat and shirt had been removed; a bandage had been applied to his shoulder. A faded, ragged comforter had been laid over him.

Across the room, the candles had been relit beneath the image of Suzaku. A stick of incense burned beside them.

Tasuki was sitting on the arm of the couch at Keiji's feet, fiddling with something in his hands.

"I don't know what the fuck you expected," he muttered, "just walking in here like that. If I'd killed you you'd've deserved it."

His voice was dull, but his life force was still unshielded, flickering and snapping around him. _It's much stronger than it used to be. I wonder whether he knows that. _It was extraordinarily distracting to watch; Keiji reluctantly closed down his sense of it. He started to sit up slowly, wincing and trying not to move his left arm.

As Keiji angled himself up, he caught sight of what was in Tasuki's hands. He was polishing one of the little throwing knives.

Tasuki gave him a sidelong glance as he made it into a sitting position; for a moment Keiji caught a glimpse of the resemblance Miaka had described—face closed and tight-lipped, eyes full of angry, sullen dread. Then he turned his face away.

"What do you want, Chichiri?"

---

**End Chapter 4**

---


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Fushigi Yuugi not mine, it's Ms. Watase's.

Warnings: More language.

---

Outsider

**Chapter 5**

---

_There'd been a mild panic when Tasuki was discovered missing from the inn room where Mitsukake had put him to rest. But since the spirit-seishi had been peeking in to check on him, on average, every forty-five seconds, Chichiri reasoned that he couldn't have been gone very long, and it took only moments for him to pinpoint the location of Tasuki's life force—although he might have guessed._

_Chichiri wrinkled his nose at the strong odor of stored ale and moved quietly down the creaky wooden steps into the inn's wine cellar. The only light came from a small glazed window near the ceiling, but it was enough to spot the forlorn figure he was looking for among the tall racks of bottles and stacks of kegs._

_Tasuki sat on the floor against the wall, draped in shadow. His face was turned into the dark corner, invisible. An open wine bottle hung carelessly from the hand that rested on his bent knee, but Chichiri saw that the bottle was still mostly full. Tasuki didn't move or look up as Chichiri reached the bottom of the stairs._

"_You had everyone worried, y'know."_

_No reply._

_Chichiri sat down on a keg. "You're supposed to be resting."_

_Obstinate silence._

"_Tasuki—"_

"_Go away," Tasuki growled. _

"_Tasuki, no one blames you for what happened."_

_An empty, broken laugh came from the shadows. "They should."_

"_That spell—"_

"Fuck _the spell. Don't you get it?" Tasuki's voice trembled near the breaking point. "Everything I did…everything I told Taka and Mi—" His voice cracked over her name. He swallowed. "It was all true," he continued in a hoarse whisper. "The fucking spell didn't make me say anything I hadn't already thought…it didn't make me do anything I hadn't already…wanted…" This time he couldn't go on, and Chichiri heard a harsh, shuddery sigh as Tasuki fought a losing battle for control._

"_I know."_

_After a long silence, Tasuki lifted his head to look at Chichiri. Chichiri wasn't surprised to see wet tracks down his cheeks. _

"_I've known for a long time."_

_Tasuki lowered his head into the shadows again. "Why didn't you say anything?" he whispered wearily._

"_Because I knew how close to your heart it was," Chichiri said gently. "And I didn't think you'd admit it. The time never seemed right to try to talk to you about it—" He broke off briefly. "Maybe I should have tried anyway," he murmured. "If it would have spared you some pain…but I didn't foresee our enemy using it against you. I'm sorry, Tasuki."_

"_What the hell are you apologizing to _me_ for, you idiot?"_ _A ghost of genuine humor had found its way back into Tasuki's voice, and Chichiri relaxed a little. "You're not the one who fucked up."_

"_Well…I suppose you have a point. _You're_ the one who owes an apology, you know…to Miaka and Taka."_

_Brief silence. "I thought you said no one blamed me," Tasuki said bitterly._

"_Not for what happened, no. Not when you didn't have control over your actions. But the thoughts your actions were based on—they don't really show a great deal of faith in your friends, do they? Faith in Taka, to do the best he can for Miaka…or faith in Miaka, to know what she wants, or to be able to handle the pain."_

"_She shouldn't _have_ to handle it—there shouldn't _be _any!" Tasuki snapped, sitting suddenly upright. He clunked the nearly full wine bottle forcefully onto the wooden floor, and some of its contents splattered onto the boards._

"_There's always pain, Tasuki." Chichiri's calm voice undercut Tasuki's anger. "People make mistakes…they misunderstand each other…they hold grudges, keep things inside that should be shared…don't ask the questions they should ask…" Chichiri's voice grew softer as he spoke. "And sometimes things happen that never, ever _should_ happen. _

"_You don't measure a relationship between people by how much pain there is…you measure it by how well they weather it."_

_Tasuki stared tight-lipped at the floor. _Sometimes I forget how young he still is, _Chichiri thought. He waited silently, patiently, while Tasuki thought that over._

"…_I can't face them," he muttered finally, turning his face back into the shadows. "Not yet."_

_Chichiri smiled. "You don't have to, Tasuki. We have a little time. I can clear everyone out of the way for a while so you can rest, and you can face them when you're ready."_

"_Don't hold your breath waiting," Tasuki muttered. But he got to his feet, slowly and stiffly…leaving the bottle of wine where it was._

---

Keiji glanced over at Tasuki. He sat on the arm of the couch, a few feet and a few miles away, staring down at the little knife he was polishing.

_He faced them then. It took a little while, and I made sure everyone stayed away—corporeal or otherwise— while he finished pulling himself together. But he did it. Even as horrified and ashamed as he was with himself, he walked out of that room on his own, went to Miaka and Taka, faced them and apologized, because he knew he owed it to them. His own sense of justice wouldn't let him hide for very long._

_That's the part of him I have to appeal to. _

"You owe Miaka an apology again," he murmured.

Tasuki's hands stopped moving.

"She's safe at home. Well, right now I guess she's at school." Keiji glanced at his watch. "Probably just now getting out of math class. Then she'll go to lunch."

Tasuki didn't look at him, but Keiji knew he was listening intently._ Good. _"After the police found her, the doctor sent her home from the hospital with a clean bill of health. She's all right," he said softly, and even without opening his senses entirely he could feel Tasuki relax a little.

"But she's been distressed, though she's hiding it. You couldn't fool her by not telling her, y'know. She knew it was you." Keiji smiled. "She knew _me_ the first time we met again, before I said a word.

"Everyone's made it back. Mitsukake was the last before you—we found him early this summer. Miaka was so happy. But she kept on asking about you, kept wondering. And worrying. She must've nagged me into wandering around half the city, trying to track you down, y'know? I kept telling her that if you hadn't gotten your memories back, I probably wouldn't be able to find you, but she couldn't let it rest."

Tasuki turned the knife in his hands over once, staring at it. "…And Tamahome?" he finally said, very quietly.

"Taka is here too. He's been here since they returned from defeating Tenkou."

Tasuki said nothing, but his tension had returned. Keiji waited.

"I thought it was him," Tasuki muttered at last, nearly a whisper.

"Hm?"

"When I heard you on the stairs." He turned the knife over again. "I…wasn't thinking all that clearly. But I thought it'd be him. Coming after me for…hurting Miaka. Again." He stopped with a faint, humorless chuckle, closing his eyes. "Kinda funny, huh? Like a kid afraid of the bogeyman. I mean, it's Taka. Last time we were in the book he couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. But I couldn't help it. He forgave me last time—hell if I know why. I sure didn't deserve it. This time…heh. Figured I was in for it.

"I didn't know it was you until you knocked the crap out of me with that energy blast." He smirked faintly. "It hurt like hell, but it cleared my head like nothin' else."

"You're welcome," Keiji said dryly.

"You should've seen yourself, just walkin' up to me like that with that knife still in you. Shit. Even though I knew it was you by then, I didn't know what the hell you were gonna do."

Tasuki finally turned his head and looked at Keiji directly. He opened his mouth, closed it as his eyes fell on the bandage, and looked at the floor. "…Sorry."

Keiji smiled faintly. "I suppose I can forgive you."

"Didn't ask you to," Tasuki said tetchily, sliding off the couch arm and crossing the room. "An' I don't think I asked you to come waltzin' in here lookin' for me, either—how the _hell_ did you get clear up here, anyway? You didn't zap everybody downstairs—I wasn't so far gone that I wouldn't have heard _that_." He put the little knife on the dresser and dug into a drawer for a shirt.

Keiji smiled wider—he couldn't help it. _The more he talks, the more he sounds like himself. _"I didn't have to." Then his smile faded a little, as it occurred to him how neatly Tasuki had distracted him.

_He's gotten better at control, _Keiji realized. _He's showing me only what he wants me to see. _He watched Tasuki pull on a black t-shirt, covering the Flame Runners' sigil tattoo on his back. "What are you going to do, Tasuki?" he said quietly.

Tasuki shrugged as he yanked on socks and stuffed his feet into his boots. "Just what I always do. I been mopin' around up here long enough. Got a gang to run."

Keiji restrained his impatience and closed his eyes. "About Miaka, Tasuki."

Tasuki shot him a glare, and reached for the large knife, which lay on the dresser. He slid it into the sheath on his thigh. "Not gonna do anything about her," he said gruffly. "She's better off where she is. So'm I."

_Dammit. I've missed something. I'm losing him. _"Everyone's waiting for you, Tasuki," Keiji said softly. "Especially Miaka, you know. Don't you want to see her again?"

Tasuki straightened up slowly, his profile turned to Keiji, his eyes closed. The grimace of pain on his face made Keiji's throat knot. It passed, leaving his face blank, and he opened his eyes, staring across the room.

"No." Tasuki turned away.

Keiji gritted his teeth as Tasuki sat down on the edge of his bed to tie his bootlaces. For a moment he _almost _reached out, almost put a suggestion on Tasuki like he'd done on the others downstairs. _It'd be better for him—he obviously still isn't thinking straight—if he just talked to them—just came with me—_

_He'd never trust me again._

Keiji sighed heavily. The power he had subconsciously gathered in his moment of temptation dissipated back into its normal flow. _I can't do that to him. Actually, I'm not even sure it would work. He's more sensitive than his henchman—I think it's pretty likely he'd detect it. And if he knew I was trying to mess around with his head…no. I can't. Damn. _Keiji rubbed his forehead.

Tasuki had stopped fiddling with his bootlaces and was watching him intently.

_Just how sensitive _is _he? _Keiji wondered, unnerved.

Tasuki's eyes narrowed. "Think it's time for you to go, Chiri," he said, jerking his bootlaces into double knots and standing up. "Though I don't know how the hell you expect to get outta here past the guys downstairs—forgive me if I ain't gonna hold your hand while you stroll out."

Keiji extended his senses again, just a little. And smiled. _That's what I thought. The shrine. There'll be enough. _"Perish the thought." He got up, carefully, and found his shirt and coat lying next to the couch; ignoring the blood, he put them back on. Tasuki continued to watch him. Keiji put his hands in his pockets and wandered, not toward the door, but toward the shrine. "I'll go, Tasuki. If you can tell me something."

Tasuki stared at him suspiciously. "…What is it?" he muttered finally.

"Do you remember how you died in the Universe of the Four Gods?"

Tasuki stood very still. Slowly, he lifted one hand to press against his chest.

"I coulda gone the rest of the year without thinkin' of that, damn you," he murmured wearily, turning away and picking up his leather trench coat from the end of the bed. "An' here I thought I had nightmares _before_."

Keiji closed his eyes, seeing it again.

_He ran at that thing full tilt, no hesitation. He was in the most incandescent rage I ever saw him in. No wisecracks beyond that one insult, and then…_

"_No more waiting…" And then along with the anger…that exultation…_

_I have to know._

"Tasuki…" Keiji found his voice wouldn't go above a whisper. "Why did you rush that demon after I told you to wait?"

Tasuki turned around, and was caught by Keiji's stare. He was still for a moment. Then he let the coat drop back onto the bed.

"I had to stop it, Chichiri," Tasuki finally said quietly. "You said you could close the gate, but we were runnin' out of time, and you were runnin' out of steam. Hell, I had to half carry _you_ up to that cave, and I was the one who'd been swingin' the damn sword half the goddamn day. _I _was tired as hell—_you_ were about to keel over.

Tasuki inhaled and took a step closer to Keiji, letting his arms drop back to his sides. "That…an' I _wanted_ that sadistic bastard so bad I could taste it," he admitted, his voice dropping lower. "Right then, by my own damn hand, I wanted it _dead_ beyond any doubt. 'Duty of a celestial warrior' my ass. After what we saw at that farm…it was _all_ kinds of personal."

His face relaxed at last, and he sighed and turned away. He reached up and ran a hand through his dark hair, mussing it even more. "I can't apologize, if that's what you're lookin' for. It was worth it to know I destroyed the damn thing. It didn't come back, did it?"

"No. When you killed the demon, the sorcerer died with it, and the gate collapsed."

"Good." He was silent for a moment, and then his eyes widened. He slowly looked over his shoulder at Keiji with an incredulous expression. "…You thought I did it on purpose. That I wanted that thing to kill me. Didn't you?"

Keiji looked at him, startled. _I was _shielding _that thought. Did he guess, or…? _"I…wondered. I knew you missed everyone. Miaka especially. I—"

Tasuki suddenly slammed a fist against the dresser, cutting Keiji off. "Fuck, you know me better than that, Chichiri! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Keiji turned away and looked up at the image of the phoenix. It really was just a cheap thing, mass-produced—the characters poorly painted, the image blurry. But something about the light of the candles and the gentle curl of the incense smoke gave it an extra dimension. He pressed his hands together and lowered his head. _Time to get ready to go. _"I had most of a century to think about it after you died," he whispered.

---

_They'd buried him quietly on Mount Reikaku, with only Kouji, Chichiri, and the other bandits present. Dowager Empress Houki had tried to insist on a full ceremonial burial as a Celestial Warrior at the palace, beside Hotohori, Chiriko, and Mitsukake…but Chichiri knew what Tasuki had wanted, and Kouji had backed him. The Empress had settled for a prayer service in front of the palace; and the plaza and courtyard had been packed full; Boushin, then seven years old, had cried silently all the way through it, tears leaking steadily from his wide green eyes as he clung to his mother with one hand and Chichiri with the other._

_After the burial at Reikaku, Chichiri had given the _tessen _to Kouji; when they returned to the stronghold, Kouji had drunk himself into oblivion. Chichiri had stayed at Reikaku long enough to make sure Kouji would be all right, and then he'd set out, alone, for Mount Taikyoku. _

_The journey had taken two weeks. He'd thought it might ease his heart, but he'd been just as numb when he set foot on the mountain as when he'd left Reikaku. He'd hardly slept as he'd traveled. _

_When he'd arrived at dusk, the Nyan-Nyans were solemn and quiet. One by one they'd come to him and embraced him, silver glowing tears flowing down their tiny cheeks. He'd gone to his old chamber, where he'd first found out who and what he was. He'd sat alone for hours, trying to meditate, but not even able to break the surface._

_He was still sitting there when Taiitsukun came to him late that night; she'd put aside her disguise, and with the Nyan-Nyans surrounding him in their true form, trying to comfort him, he'd broken down at last._

"_This is a bitter reward for a faithful servant," Taiitsukun had said to him softly and sadly as he wept, "to ask you to go on alone. Your work is not done, Chichiri…you still have a long and arduous task to complete. Much of it will be thankless, unappreciated, and there will be no one for you to share it with…but if you do it well, as I know that you will, you will see peace in Kounan before you follow Tasuki and the others."_

_A hand turned his tear-streaked face up, and the glorious face smiled upon him gently. "But you need not take up your duty again until your wounds have had time to heal, body and soul. Rest, Chichiri." The hand touched his forehead in blessing, and then he was alone with the Nyan-Nyans, who put him to bed with kisses and tears when he'd cried himself out._

---

Emerging from his brief trance, Keiji sighed faintly. _There…ready. I can use it now. _He opened his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I should have known you wouldn't do that…not just as an escape."

He expected another snarky comment, but there was silence behind him. He turned from the shrine.

Tasuki had both hands over his face, and Keiji heard a harsh breath, not quite a sob. Startled, Keiji stared at him… and then opened his senses fully again, letting himself see Tasuki's aura.

It was flickering even more brightly than before, its flames leaping…and within the flames Keiji saw fragmented reflections of the memory he'd just called forth. Boushin's tears; the burial; Kouji passed out in his chair, an empty sake bowl in one hand, the _tessen _clutched to his chest in the other; himself as Chichiri, gazing blindly into the darkness in an empty room.

Keiji stared in shock. _He saw it…he saw everything…I was in _trance, _and he saw it…he's at least as sensitive as I am, maybe more…_

"Tasuki…" he whispered.

"Get out of here," Tasuki said in a choked hiss from behind his hands. "Get out of here and don't come back."

"Tasuki—I didn't mean—"

Tasuki turned away.

Keiji swallowed hard and stepped toward the shrine. _Now I've done it. _Fighting down tears, he closed his eyes and pressed his hands together again. He _pulled_.

The shrine held years' worth of stored power; it flowed into Keiji like a wellspring. He hadn't dared to count on this much. It replenished his depleted reserves, until every nerve quivered, and he still hadn't tapped it out. Far from it. His aura brightened until it almost matched the flare he'd produced earlier. He looked up at Tasuki. The red light gleamed off Tasuki's black hair again, but he didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry," Keiji whispered. Then he looked up at the image of Suzaku again…and let the lonely apartment dissolve into blackness around him.

---

"Okay, I'm getting nervous."

"You said that fifteen minutes ago."

"I was _uneasy_ fifteen minutes ago. Now I'm nervous."

"He'll be fine."

"You're nervous too. You're chewing your fingers."

Karuko put his hand back in his lap. "No, I'm not."

"You were."

"Would you rather I tapped my foot?"

Ryuen ground his teeth. "Shut up, Karuko."

There was a thump against the car, and both of them jumped. Ryuen glanced in the rear-view mirror, and then he was out of the car like a shot, the driver-side door flying open. "Keiji!"

Karuko started to leap after him, but he'd forgotten his fastened seatbelt. Cursing quietly, he fumbled with the latch until it unfastened, and then slid out of the seat.

Keiji was slumped against the back end of the car. Ryuen was trying to get him upright; Karuko moved around the car to Keiji's other side.

"Keiji! Hey, c'mon!" Ryuen shook him by the shoulders, and Keiji suddenly hissed sharply and pulled away, staggering back from the car. He almost went over backward, but Karuko ducked in to support him. Ryuen saw the blood-soaked shoulder of his jacket and gasped. "Oh, crap, I'm sorry! What the hell—no, c'mon, let's just get out of here! Karuko, get him in!" He unlocked the back door, cussing at his shaking hands; when he jerked the car door open, Karuko settled Keiji in the back seat, shut the door, and then went around to get in beside him. Ryuen dashed for the open driver's door.

As Ryuen started the car, Karuko locked his own door, fastened his seatbelt and turned to look at Keiji. He was pale and sweating. "Chichiri…what happened?" he asked softly.

Ryuen pulled out of the parking lot entirely too fast, and Keiji slumped sideways with a gasp of pain; Karuko moved over to support him. "Dammit, Ryuen, slow down!" he snapped.

"You're joking, right? He's bleeding, we've got to get him to the hospital—"

Keiji shook his head. "Bleeding's stopped," he whispered hoarsely. "Just reaction…from teleporting."

Karuko blinked. "He…says the bleeding's stopped," he edited for simplicity. "Slow _down_, Ryuen. You're going to hit someone. And stop looking in the rear view mirror. You _drive_."

"Yes, your Majesty," Ryuen muttered.

Karuko rolled his eyes, but turned his attention back to Keiji. Carefully he turned back the side of Keiji's jacket, and saw the bandaging beneath the shirt. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Keiji. "Do you _need_ to go to the hospital?"

Keiji shook his head. "Just need to rest," he rasped. He mustered a weak smile for Karuko. "Your place all right? Don't want to…try to get to mine…" His face grayed a little, and his eyes lost focus. Alarmed, Karuko snapped his fingers loudly in Keiji's face, and then carefully shook his good shoulder. Keiji blinked, inhaled deeply, and his eyes cleared.

"It's fine, Keiji. We'll go to my apartment. Hear that, Ryuen?" he added loudly.

"Yes, your Majesty!"

"Ryuen…"

---

Keiji stayed conscious through the drive, and was able to walk with support when they reached Karuko's building. "Ryuen…call Keisuke…and Taka," Keiji murmured as Ryuen sat him down on the couch in the living room and got his coat and belt off. "Wake me tonight…"

"Keiji, are you _sure _you shouldn't go to the hospital?" Ryuen frowned into his face, deeply worried. Keiji's color hadn't come back, and he was short of breath.

"Yes…" Karuko brought a glass of water, and had to hold it for him; Keiji's hands were shaking. He drank most of it, and then lay down on the couch with Ryuen's help. Karuko put a blanket over him. "They'd only…treat me for shock…and you're already doing that…" He closed his eyes. "Wake me tonight," he repeated in a whisper, and then he sank into sleep like a stone into water.

---

**End Chapter 5**

---


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Fushigi Yuugi not mine, it's Ms. Watase's.

Warnings: Very mild language.

---

Outsider

**Chapter 6**

---

Taiten mounted the stairs slowly.

_If he hasn't gotten his feet under him by now, he's not going to. Time to find out if he's going to get his head out of his ass on his own. _He looked at the door; it was solidly, silently closed as it had been the last few days.

He knocked firmly.

A few heartbeats of silence passed, and Taiten's heart sank lower with each one. He reached out and turned the handle, and stepped inside, uninvited.

Three candles were lined up on the shelf in the far corner. The glow silhouetted a figure sitting before the shrine; they gleamed on a mop of black hair, seeming to turn it orange. His boss sat on the floor in front of the shrine, shirtless, looking at the image above.

The scattered liquor bottles were gone. The clutter had been cleared away. The bed was even made. Taiten stared.

"Don't be shy—come right in, why don'tcha," his boss drawled, shifting and getting to his feet. The bright tendrils of the flame tattoo on his back seemed to flicker as he moved. There was no slur in his voice; he stretched casually and cracked his neck. When he looked over his shoulder at Taiten, the signature smirk was back on his face. "Time for a stroll around the neighborhood. Be ready in five."

Taiten blinked, but had discipline enough not to let his jaw drop._ Maybe that friend of his did some good after all. _His boss walked over and pulled a t-shirt on over his head; he glanced at Taiten again as he started to stow his throwing knives. "What're you waiting for, New Year's? Move."

Taiten nodded curtly and headed toward the door. Part of him was relieved he'd be spared the messy necessity of a takeover.

The rest of him wasn't so sure. _That was quick. He spent four or five days deteriorating and then he snaps back in a few hours? _

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and glanced over his shoulder at the boss's door. Then he went on down the hall, shaking his head. Not for the first time, he wished he knew what his boss was thinking.

---

_I think I'm going out of my mind._

_I thought I'd let it go, or at least that I was getting close. That last gasp of caring about people, of wanting something more than what I could hold in my hands. It took a lot of drinking, but I thought I'd finally got it under my thumb. At least I wasn't seeing their faces anymore._

_Goddamn you, Chichiri. _

_I heard those footsteps, and they weren't Taiten's—too light. They weren't any of the other guys'—too careful. And I think I must have picked up something else, some power that I was too drunk off my ass to figure out. I can't come up with any better reason for the way I panicked. As those footsteps got halfway up, I was shaking. Some memory was in my head, about another set of stairs, with me at the top, and someone was coming up, and I was holding all the cards, and I had all the power——_

_--and I was still scared shitless._

_Tamahome._

_As soon as that name crossed my mind, I really wanted a deep hole to crawl into. It had to be Tamahome. And if it was Tamahome…after what I'd done to Miaka…I was dead._

_Six steps left. Five. _

_I finally unfroze and got my ass off the couch—almost fell over. I went for the only safe place left—the shrine._

_Something else caught my eye, though. My knife, Honoo, was on the dresser next to my throwing knives. It stood for what I'd accomplished, as little and low as that might have been._

_Some of my calm came back. I was armed; I had the advantage of surprise; I had the upper hand. I took the throwing knives. This was my place. Whether it was Tamahome or not, someone was trespassing. They'd find out just how bad an idea that was. I went to the shrine without making a sound. When the doorknob turned, I blew the candles out._

_The light from outside the room showed him perfectly before he closed the door. I knew just where he was, and where to aim._

_So it was a big surprise to throw a knife at my enemy…and miss._

_When the room lit up like a goddamn lava lamp, it just about blinded me. I aimed my second throw way too high, though I think I still almost clipped his ear._

_And then that chi blast tossed me on the floor like a giant rag doll, like I'd grabbed a live-voltage wire, and my whole goddamn world turned wrong side out._

_I knew it was Chichiri facing me, though I'm not sure how I knew. And as the room stopped playing merry-go-round and I managed to get back on my feet, I realized that wasn't all I knew. I knew he was mad as hell…though with one of my knives still stuck in him, could I blame him? I knew he'd come alone, but that someone was waiting for him. I knew he was worried. I knew he was scared. I knew he hurt so bad it made _me _sweat. _

_It was too much for me to figure out at once. Right then I couldn't focus on anything but the "mad as hell" part. It was like being in one of those crazy action movies, watching him walk up to me cool as ice with that knife in his shoulder, but three times as freaky, because I knew _exactly _how much it hurt, and _still_ he faced me down unarmed._

_I was frosty cold sober by then, but it crossed my mind that even though it wasn't Tamahome, I might just be in trouble anyway._

_---_

Ryuen knelt by the couch and looked at Keiji.

_I don't think he's even moved since he fell asleep. _The young man's chest barely rose as he breathed. _I wish he'd let us take him to the hospital. I guess he doesn't want to have to explain the wound to anyone. _

"Keiji?" He kept his voice low, not wanting to startle his friend, but the man didn't even twitch. Frowning, Ryuen rubbed his knuckles against Keiji's wrist and gave it a squeeze. He couldn't shake the injured shoulder. "Keiji…wake up."

Keiji stirred, moaned faintly—it hurt Ryuen to hear—and opened bloodshot eyes that didn't quite focus. _Damn. He really doesn't look so good…_ Keiji closed his eyes again, and then slowly moved his hand to rub his face. "What time is it?" he said in a distant, foggy voice.

"Seven-thirty." Keiji began to struggle to sit up; Ryuen winced and tried to help him. "Keisuke's on his way here, and so are Miaka and Taka—and they're bringing Shou and Hiroshi."

_That _woke Keiji up. "At this hour? Shou's mother is going to kill us…"

"He's got permission. His schoolwork's done. I asked. All of us should be here." Ryuen looked at Keiji as he sat, shivering, on the sofa. He laid his hand lightly against Keiji's forehead.

Keiji sighed. "Stop that."

Ryuen removed his hand. "I guess you're not running a fever, but I'm fixing you some tea and some soup and you _are_ going to drink it. And you'd better get that shirt off before they get here—if Miaka sees that blood, she's going to freak out." Ryuen stood up.

"If you want it off, turn up the heat, would you?" Keiji muttered, wrapping his arms around himself.

---

About ten minutes later, Keiji was settled on the couch again in a pressed button-down shirt, borrowed from Karuko, which hid the bandages on his shoulder. He had a cup of soup in his hands and one of tea on the end table. Karuko moved about quietly, bringing his kitchen chairs out for some supplementary seating to the couch and the floor cushions around the traditional Japanese table in the living room.

Ryuen sat down again beside Keiji and looked at him hopefully. "I don't guess you'll give me a preview or something of what happened, huh?"

Keiji swallowed some soup and shook his head. "I don't want to tell it twice."

Ryuen sighed. "Did you get your explanation, at least?"

Keiji smiled slightly. "Yes."

Ryuen perked as a car pulled up outside, and bounced up to look out the window. "Keisuke's here." He opened the door to the knock a minute later, and Keisuke came in, shrugging his bomber jacket off.

"Welcome," Karuko said, looking up cheerfully from setting down a tray with the teapot and cups. "Please sit down. Do you want anything to drink?"

Keisuke grinned. "Don't guess you have any beer?"

"I do, actually," Karuko said serenely, heading for the kitchen.

Ryuen rolled his eyes. "Some things ne-e-ever change."

"What's THAT supposed to mean?"

Keisuke looked at Keiji, taking in his pale face, but said nothing; he just looked troubled, watching through the window for the others to arrive. A grin escaped him when Karuko came back with a cold can and tossed it to him.

A few minutes later, two more cars pulled up, and Ryuen was back at the window. "They're here!"

Keiji watched quietly from the couch as Karuko opened the door. Yui and Tetsuya came in first, Yui tugging off the scarf that covered her blond hair. Tetsuya ruefully took off his sunglasses for a few moments; they'd fogged over with the contrast between the chilly air outdoors and the warmer air in the apartment.

Hiroshi entered behind them. He bore the strongest resemblance to his previous self, except for Taka. He was a tall, strong, square-jawed man, dark-eyed, with a low, soothing voice, though his thick dark hair was cut conservatively short. It was a strange irony; of all of the seishi, he had regained the fewest memories. However, he'd inherited Mitsukake's deep calm and his steady nature.

Shou, coming in behind Hiroshi, displayed little resemblance to the youngest Suzaku seishi except in his sharp, clear green eyes. At sixteen and a half, he was only a little shorter than Taka, his brown hair spilling across his forehead so that it frequently fell in his eyes. He hugged Yui and Ryuen shyly, waved at Karuko, and then brightened when he saw Keiji across the room. Keiji smiled back at him.

Taka's tall form hesitated just outside the door and moved aside to let Miaka enter first. She was wearing a heavier fleece-lined coat against the unseasonable chill outside; her hair was caught back in a simple ponytail. Taka entered behind her and slipped Miaka's coat off for her after she unzipped it, earning a smile and a fond peck. Taka grinned as he helped Karuko gather people's coats.

Amid the bustle and chatter, Miaka looked across the room at Keiji. She smiled, but even though he smiled back, her smile faded as she took in his pale, weary face.

She came across the room to him; Keiji saw Taka look up and watch her.

Miaka sat on the arm of the couch, looking down at him. "Are you all right, Chichiri?" she asked quietly.

"I'm fine, Miaka. Just tired." He looked up into her worried green eyes, and gave her hand a squeeze. With his other hand he patted the couch next to him. "Why don't you and Taka sit here?"

After a few minutes of bustling, choosing seats, and serving drinks, everyone was settled: Keiji and Taka on the couch with Miaka between them; Hiroshi, Keisuke and Tetsuya in chairs with Yui on a cushion at Tetsuya's feet; Shou and Karuko at the table, and Ryuen cross-legged on the floor by the couch.

Keiji glanced around at them, then closed his eyes and began.

---

_Shit. Was Chichiri always that much stronger than me?_

_Once he grabbed me, that was it. I couldn't budge. My knife hand lost all feeling in a couple of seconds—only the strength I'd built up over years of practice let me hang on to Honoo at all. He was careful—really careful—but I could tell that a good hard twist would break my arm, or yank it out of the socket._

_And through all that, he was in agony. I knew, because I felt it too. I don't know how. I'd felt it before, sort of like an echo, after he knocked me down with that chi bolt; but that close to him, I felt it like I'd been stabbed myself. I tried to break his grip. Ha. Not happening._

_I could hear his pain in his voice, and I couldn't believe how steady it was, when he told me to drop the knife. I knew he didn't want to have to hurt me. That chi blast had cleared my head, but it wasn't until then that I really got my wits back. It was Chichiri—_Chichiri, _for God's sake, my best goddamn friend in two worlds besides Kouji—and all that pain he was in was _my _fault. _

_What the hell was I doing? _

_I closed my eyes, and let it go. The knife, and everything else. I'd thought I'd never see him again…and here he was. I was safe after all. For a few minutes at least, I didn't have to hide._

_He let go of me. God, it was a relief. I sank down on my knees and just didn't move for a little bit. I heard him kick the knife away. He didn't say anything—and then I felt another stab of that pain, and a funny gray feeling that just wasn't right. I looked up just in time to see him keel over on the floor, his hand sliding away from that knife in his shoulder._

_Oh, _shit.

It wasn't too bad, though. I'd been stabbed worse myself. He didn't even twitch when I pulled the knife out, although he stirred and moaned a little when I pressed down on the wound to stop the bleeding. I got him cleaned up and bandaged; he'd lost a lot of blood, but I thought he'd be all right. Getting him up on the couch was the hard part.

Nothing to do then but hurry up and wait. I put Honoo away, got my throwing knife and cleaned it, and sat down with the polishing cloth to wait for him to wake up.

---

Keiji stared across the room for a moment when he finished speaking, then looked at the faces around him. Karuko was grave, Keisuke tight-lipped, Shou stricken with tears in his eyes; Ryuen had his hands up to his mouth in Nuriko's signature gesture of dismay. Yui was looking at the floor, troubled, and Tetsuya's hand rested gently on her hair. Hiroshi's eyes were distant, thoughts turned inward.

Keiji glanced over at Taka, who looked grim, and then finally at Miaka. Tears were drying on her cheeks, and she was leaning her head on Taka's shoulder; Taka was holding her hand.

"I'm not sure what he'll do now," Keiji said softly. "I made it as clear as I could that we wanted him back with us…but he's so damned stubborn. He feels guilty about what he did to Miaka…doubly so because it isn't the first time. He's convinced himself that he doesn't deserve to be forgiven again. He's determined to stay where he is, and I couldn't change his mind." He sighs. "In fact, I made it worse. Those things I said he saw in my memories…it shocked and upset him, and I think he believed I showed him that on purpose. I don't think he realizes he picked it up all on his own."

Tetsuya spoke suddenly. "Do you think he's always been able to do that? He said he didn't know it was you until you hit him with a chi blast…"

Keiji grimaced. "That's another thing…I couldn't figure it out at the time, but now I don't think he could." He sighed and rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache begin to throb right between his eyes. "I think that chi bolt might have triggered abilities that were latent or subconscious until then. I'm sure he had _something _before—no ordinary person could have thrown a knife like that after drinking as much as he had. Ordinary people can develop the ability to mask their chi the way he did…but it's rare for them to be able to mask it so completely that a strong sensitive can't detect it at all.

"But now…he's a lot stronger, maybe as strong as or stronger than I am…and he's had no training and doesn't have anybody to guide him. That's dangerous."

"Why is that?" Miaka was looking at him.

Keiji gazed back at her. He'd tried to tell everything and be as honest as possible…but he'd left one thing out.

"_Everyone's waiting for you, Tasuki," Keiji said softly. "Especially Miaka, you know. Don't you want to see her again?"_

"_No." _

_I couldn't tell her that. I just couldn't say it—I know she's strong, but it would hurt her. I don't think it's really true, though maybe he's convinced himself that it is. She has so much faith that he'll come back to us if someone just says the right words to him. It's not going to be that simple._

"I'm not sure how far his power extends," he answered Miaka. "It's possible that his sensitivity is only to me, since I'm the one who triggered him—but what if it isn't? He could be broadcasting his emotions and his thoughts to everyone, without knowing how to stop it. Though he might learn, eventually, how to control it himself."

"Eventually," Ryuen muttered; his expression twisted as he tried to picture the consequences.

"What's important hasn't changed," Miaka said firmly. She sat up straight. "We still have to get him out of there. We have to! Those gangs are so violent—any time they could get into a fight, and we could lose him, just like that! We have to at least try!"

Keiji rubbed his forehead, feeling the ache intensify between his eyes…though it was probably just dehydration, and not his aggravation with his stubborn former Priestess. Probably. "Miaka, it won't—"

"_Don't _say it won't be easy!" she snapped, and glared at him. Keiji blinked. "Why do people keep saying that?" Miaka went on. She turned her scowl on Ryuen, and he hunched his shoulders sheepishly. "We've done things a lot more dangerous than this. We didn't sit around talking about how hard they were going to be—we just _did _them, because we had to! And another thing—" Her accusing gaze flicked back to Keiji. "You are _not _leaving me behind this time. I'm going with you."

"Miaka…" Keiji didn't really have the energy to finish the sentence. Miaka's jaw was set, her eyes bright with a familiar drive. He let out the rest of his breath in a sigh, and looked at Taka.

Taka's face was also set as he looked down at Miaka. Keiji watched his silent battle. Finally, Taka closed his eyes. "I don't like it either," he said quietly, "but I think she should go." Faces turned toward him from all over the room, mostly astonished. Miaka looked up at her protector and smiled. "Tasuki…won't hurt Miaka now that he has his memories back," Taka said. "She's more likely to be safe around him than anyone else. And I think he'll listen to her." He opened his eyes again. "I don't think I can go," he said softly. "From what Chichiri's saying, I think my face is the last one he's going to want to see."

"I'm not sure about that," Keiji said. "He wants your forgiveness, too, Taka. Maybe yours more than anyone's except Miaka's."

Taka only shook his head a little. "I really don't think I should be there."

"All right," Keiji said. He looked at Miaka, then around at the others. "We'll go back in three days. Ryuen, Karuko…" Ryuen perked up. "I'd like both of you along. You can defend Miaka in case there's trouble with the rest of Tasuki's gang."

Ryuen grinned broadly. "All right! I mean, I don't want us to have trouble, but I wouldn't mind another shot at those guys."

"Hiroshi, do you think you'll be able to go with us?"

Everyone looked toward the large man in the chair in the corner. His dark eyes narrowed in thought, and then he nodded. "I can do it," he rumbled. "Just let me know when."

Shou sighed, laying his head on his arms. "I suppose I get to play rear guard with Taka," he muttered.

Keiji smiled. "I'm sorry, Shou. But if your mother—"

"I want to see him, too!" Shou burst out, sitting up straight. "And if he doesn't listen to you, and he won't come back, I'll never see him again!"

"He _will _come back, Shou," Miaka said.

Shou leaned his chin on his hand. "You can't promise that. You don't know what he'll do."

"No, but _you _know _me_. And you know I won't give up while there's still a chance."

Shou's softer green eyes met Miaka's determined ones. Something in her expression seemed to appease him. He smiled a little, and nodded.

"We'll come over and wait with you and Taka, Shou," Yui said, speaking for the first time. Shou smiled shyly.

Keiji looked around the room again. "All right, then," he said again. "Miaka, Ryuen, Karuko, Hiroshi. I'll get in touch with you the day after tomorrow." Keiji looked at Miaka, who gazed directly back, and he suddenly found himself smiling. "If the five of us can't convince that bonehead to come back, nobody can."

---

The gathering relaxed into something much less intense. Karuko and Shou got into a conversation about one of Shou's classes; Tetsuya asked Hiroshi about his work at the hospital. Wrapped in familiar voices, Keiji felt himself getting drowsy again. With effort, he pushed himself to his feet. He ignored Ryuen's covert look of concern and headed down the hall.

In the bathroom, he splashed cool water on his face. It helped a little. Trying to resist the call of the comfortable couch back in the living room, he stepped into the tiny kitchen and leaned on the counter.

A footstep made him look up. Miaka came in with an armload of glasses, and Keiji raised his eyebrows and started to step toward her. "Uh, Miaka, let me get some of those—"

"No, no, I've got it!" she said brightly. He stepped hastily out of the way, but she actually managed to get her load to the counter without dropping any. "See?" she said happily. "I'm getting better!" She swung an arm for emphasis.

Keiji was ready, and leaned in quickly to catch the glass she knocked off the edge of the counter. Miaka grinned at him sheepishly. "Well, see? At least it wasn't all of them…" Keiji chuckled and shook his head.

Miaka turned to the sink to rinse the glasses. Keiji watched her. "You won't change your mind, will you?" he said.

She didn't look up. "No," she said. "I won't."

"What you said about Tasuki—that we could lose him in an instant—that applies to you, too, you know. If we go, and there's trouble, and those guys are armed with more than knives and billy clubs, it could be over for any one of us in a heartbeat, Miaka."

There was a silence. "Funny, I don't see you trying to talk any of the others out of going," Miaka said. Her voice was still low, but angry. "You _asked _them to go—but when I said I was going, you looked at Taka—as if I'm just a little kid, and anything _important_ is all his decision!"

"You don't think he should have a say in whether you do something as dangerous as this?" Keiji looked sharply down at her.

Miaka lifted her chin and glared at Keiji. "Of course he should! And he did. But you weren't expecting him to say yes, were you? You thought he'd back you up and tell me not to go!"

That was true, and it stung. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to channel anger and frustration into something more constructive. "That isn't the point. I just thought that if anyone could change your mind about putting yourself in danger, it would be Taka. Do you think I want to come back here, if something happens to you, and tell him that you got hurt, or worse?"

"Chichiri, you _don't _have to scare me." Now her voice was threatening tears, and he looked at her again. Miaka's green eyes were swimming, but she was still glaring. "I'm already scared. I already _know _that it's dangerous. I already _know _that someone could get killed. How is that any different from the Universe of the Four Gods, whether it's a knife or a gun or magic or something else? I _saw_ Nuriko die when he'd just been talking to us a moment before—do you think I don't know how fast it can happen?" The tears spilled down her cheeks. "But I'm not going to let that stop me. He came to this world because of me. And now he's in trouble, and he needs me. And I'm going to do whatever I can." She turned back to the sink, scrubbing at her eyes with the backs of her hands, and started rinsing glasses again, jerking at the faucet a little harder than necessary.

_I haven't been listening to her at all, have I? _Ruefully, Keiji turned around and laid a hand lightly on top of Miaka's head. "I'm sorry. You're right. I have been treating you differently from everyone else. And it isn't fair."

"No, it isn't," Miaka grumbled; but her scowl was fading. She looked up at him. "Are you going to stop trying to talk me out of it, then?"

He sighed. "Yeah. I still don't like it, but I guess I don't have to like it, y'know?"

A small smile found its way onto her lips. "That's right. You don't."

Ryuen peered around the doorjamb with an anxious face, and suddenly Keiji wondered how much the others had overheard. "Uh, you all done in here? I think everybody's about ready to leave."

Miaka turned around and nodded. "We'll be out in a minute." Ryuen, with a relieved smile, vanished into the hall.

Miaka looked up at Keiji, and he held his arms out with an apologetic look. Her surprise turned into a smile, and she hugged him tightly. "Don't worry," she said. "I just have a feeling it'll be all right." She stepped back and headed out into the living room.

"I hope you're right," he said.

---

_Goddamn you, Chichiri!_

_Whatever the hell you did to me, it's drivin' me crazy. It's like she's here in the room sometimes. I can hear her, see her. Sometimes I can almost touch her._

_It's not as bad now, out drivin' around the neighborhood, but it'll probably be waitin' for me when I get back. I don't think I can rest in that room anymore. I don't think I can find any rest anywhere now; not with her followin' me._

_But I'll play the hand you dealt me. I'll just keep going on here, doing the shit I have to do to keep this gang together, 'cause it's all I've got left. 'Til I really can't stand it anymore. I'll worry about that when it happens._

_You'd just better not come back. I really will kill ya next time. _

---

**End Chapter 6**

---

A/N: Fina-freakin'-ly! A thousand apologies for the ridiculously long hiatus, folks. Here it is, and I hope it's worth the wait. Two more chapters to go, and I'm _not_ planning on taking over four months to write those. Many thanks to KL, who beta'ed this for me. :)


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Fushigi Yuugi not owned by me. Rats.

Warnings: Does the F-word make it automatically M-rated? If so, we're back to the M rating, but that's it for this chapter.

---

Outsider

**Chapter 7**

---

_Ah. Why didn't I think about that sooner?_

Keiji blinked as he slipped out of trance. He'd been meditating to give his mind a break from wrestling with the problem of getting himself, his friends, and Tasuki in the same place at the same time. Teleporting all the way to Tasuki's apartment from here was possible…but with four other people, it would drain him badly. He was willing to take the risk, especially with three of the others along to help keep Miaka safe. But…

_It's these new psi powers of his. I still don't have any clear idea of what he's capable of. I can trust the others to handle any physical threat he poses, but…he did learn how to mask his aura. I'm still not sure he did it consciously, but if he's been trying to develop his abilities since I left him, he could be more dangerous than we'd expect. I don't want to leave them defenseless against that possibility. Ryuen's got some ability, and so does Hiroshi, but Ryuen's not trained, and Hiroshi's talent is centered on healing._

_So I'm really going to need to save some strength for this._

_Unless we could bring him to us…_

He unfolded himself slowly, following the line of thought. _Miaka said that before she recognized Tasuki, she thought very strongly of Tamahome, and Tasuki jumped. That was before she thought he'd recovered his memories._

_Even in this world, Miaka has a low-key connection with all of us. None of us sensed it when she was in danger, because that shrine acted partly as a shield, and kept her thought from escaping. I didn't sense it either; I sensed something wrong afterward, when Taka and the others were so upset. _He snuffed out the incense, moving absently to the kitchen to put on a kettle of water for tea.

_But Tasuki reacted, even before he had his memories._

_So he's still got a connection with her…and it should work both ways. Through her, I can probably reach him. _He narrowed his eyes, and then nodded slightly. _Yes. I think that will work._

He sighed and looked out the window. _Please, Tasuki…if you won't listen to me…listen to Miaka._

---

Over the next couple of days, with some wrangling back and forth on the phone, they made their plans. They would meet at Taka's, and take Keisuke's car. Ryuen would drive. "It fits four polite, and five friendly," Keisuke always said.

Keiji also asked everyone to be as prepared as they could for the confrontation. He'd need their resources as well as his own. "Get enough sleep," he told them, "and try not to worry too much."

"Easy for you to say," Miaka grumbled over the phone with him.

"Easier said than done," he agreed. "But I'm not saying not to think about Tasuki at all. Just try to keep your thoughts in a positive vein. Think about what you want to say to him when you see him again. Think about the good things you've missed about him. I'm going to be using everyone's energy to augment your link with him, but you're the focus, Miaka. All of this is going to be coming to him through you, so you especially need to be as positive as you can."

Keisuke also called to finalize the plans for the rear guard. He would stay at Taka's with Yui and Tetsuya, and help keep Shou company. "He's really upset," Keisuke told Keiji. "He's not showing it much, but I still wish there was some way he could come along."

"I know. He and Tasuki were close, and their relationship was one of the only good things Shou remembered when he first started getting his memories back. But I don't dare risk it. It's bad enough that we're taking Miaka."

"Mom would flip out if she knew, that's for sure," Keisuke agreed. "But Miaka grew up a lot while she was with you guys. She's old enough to make her own choices, even if they're not always the safe ones." He hesitated. "I am kind of surprised that Taka changed his mind," he said cautiously. "The way he acted right after the attack, I thought he'd be ready to lock her up and throw away the key until you got back. But he supported her—and he's not even going along. Do you think he'll change his mind again at the last minute?"

Keiji was silent for a few moments. "I…don't think so," he said slowly. "But I'm not one hundred percent sure. He did say himself that he didn't think he should go. I can't say he's wrong about that. He seems to have become sort of a bogeyman in Tasuki's mind—I don't want to spook him."

"Well, for that matter, how do you think Tasuki's going to react to seeing Miaka there?" Keisuke asked.

Keiji sighed. "I'm not sure about that either. That could spook him in an entirely different way. He said he didn't want to see her again."

"He said _that_?" Keisuke blurted, sounding appalled.

"I don't think he means it… well, I think he _thinks_ he means it. Or at least he wanted me to think so. I think he's afraid to face her. Not that he'd admit it. He didn't say so, not outright. But he didn't really have to."

He had one more phone call that day. Hiroshi called to confirm that he'd be available that evening. "I'll bring a first aid kit and a few other things, just in case," he said. "Better to be prepared." He hesitated, and Keiji waited, sensing something more coming. "I don't know what else I'll be able to do," he said. "It's helped, hearing everyone else talk about him…but I'm afraid I still don't remember much about Tasuki myself. I wouldn't know what to say to him."

Keiji smiled. "Don't worry about it, Hiroshi. Think about it this way—we're not really dealing with the same Tasuki you would have known then. He's had part of another lifetime of experiences that don't have anything to do with the old Tasuki. You read people well, and you know how to listen. I think your intuition will help you as well as any of our memories; maybe more."

Sounding reassured, Hiroshi said goodnight and hung up. Keiji returned to his meditation corner, inhaling the lingering scent of incense as he sat down. _Maybe that's the clue, _he thought. _Maybe the mistakes I've made in dealing with him are because I'm thinking of him too much in terms of his old self. I kept underestimating him, because he kept acting in ways I wasn't expecting. _

_Come to think of it, that's a problem with me, lately. I'd been acting on a preconceived idea of what Miaka was thinking and feeling, too. _He smiled wryly and struck a match to light the incense cone. The smoke curled up gently beside the red jade phoenix on the shelf. _No wonder I've been going in circles; I've been trying to figure out what to do based on how people behave in my own little world. You'd think Taiitsukun never taught me anything. _He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. _Well, all that is just clutter now. Clear it out. The only way to really start over is to move on ahead._

---

"There." Taiten pointed to a spot on the map. "That's where that last fight took place." He glanced at the key, then back at the map and tapped a spot marked with an orange slash. "That's where we caught them snooping around the first time."

His boss leaned on the table, staring down at the map with a bored expression that didn't fool Taiten. "Getting pretty fucking confident, aren't they?" he muttered. He took the lit cigarette out of his mouth and tapped it into the ashtray. "Time to cut them down a notch, I think. We got anything going on tonight?"

Taiten glanced at the map key again and measured the distances from the hideout with his fingers. "Nothing that can't be postponed. Supposed to rain like hell, too. How many guys should we take?"

He didn't get an answer right away, and when he looked up, the boss was looking off into space again, a faint frown on his face. Something about it gave Taiten chills. _Like he's listening to something I can't hear. That's the third time in what, about ten minutes? _He cleared his throat, and the funny glazed-over look in his boss's eyes went away again. "Sorry. What?"

"How many?"

"Oh." The boss tapped his fingers on the map for a moment, and took the cigarette out of his mouth to smash it, barely half-finished, into the ashtray. "Six. They've advanced far enough. Let's see how much blood they're willing to pay for more territory." He straightened up. "I'll be down when it's time." He stuck his hands in his pockets and strode out of the room, turning down the hall toward his apartment.

Taiten watched his boss until he was out of sight. _The talk is right. The walk is right. The gestures are right. _He glanced at the cigarette in the ashtray. _Mostly. _He walked to the door, stepping quietly out into the hall. His boss started up the stairs, and Taiten watched. _I've never seen him put out a cigarette that wasn't smoked right up to the filter. _Such a small thing. It could mean nothing.

His boss stopped on the stairs, midway up. He half-turned, and looked directly at Taiten.

He smirked slowly, and Taiten's skin crawled. _He heard, _whispered a tiny, terrible voice in the back of his mind.

Then his boss turned and walked up the stairs, disappearing into his apartment with an echoing bang from the door.

Taiten looked down at his hands and, incredibly, found them shaking. _What the _fuck _was that all about? _He turned and hurried back toward the main room, putting his hands in his pockets. His breathing steadied and his mind settled as he walked, and he resisted the impulse to turn and look back. _Your mind's playing tricks on you. Stress. Too much fucking coffee. _

But he couldn't stop the thought that crawled through his mind, all the same: _I thought he was back to normal…but he's not. Not even close. _

---

Miaka cast a worried look out the window. She didn't like the way it was clouding up out there. _Not tonight! Why couldn't it wait a few days? Stupid rain. _She looked down at her textbook and the English workbook lying open in front of her. _I can't concentrate at all. But I need to get this done before we leave, and it's not going to do itself. _She picked up her pencil again. _Just a few more of these to find synonyms for. Wait… "synonym" does mean "the same", doesn't it? _She checked, flipping a few pages. _Good, I was right. "Antonym" is the opposite. _She opened her thesaurus again, and glanced at the next word in the workbook.

_Stupid vocabulary. Hmmm…next word, "nervous". That's easy, I've been nervous for the past three days. _She flipped through the thesaurus. _Anxious. Uneasy. Troubled. No kidding. _She wrote the words down carefully, making sure of the spelling; she was improving, but her workbook pages from earlier in the semester were like a massacre with all the red marks for spelling mistakes. She'd have been failing English without Yui's help. _That's three, need one more. "Apprehensive." That sounds good. A-p-p-r-h…e…wait a minute…darn it!_

"Miaka!"

She jumped, dropping her pencil again, and then got up and went to her bedroom door. "Yeah, Keisuke?"

"Dinner's going to be ready in about fifteen minutes," he called back from down the hall. He poked his head into the hall from the kitchen, then stepped halfway out. "Do you think you're going to want to eat?"

Miaka chuckled. "Keisuke, when do I ever _not _want to eat?"

He snorted. "I should've remembered that your mood doesn't affect your appetite. Are you still doing your homework?"

"Almost done. I'll finish it by the time we have to go."

Keisuke nodded. He watched her for a moment. Then he came down the hall toward her and laid a hand on top of her head; she blinked. "I just wanted to say I'm kind of proud of you, for pushing so hard for Tasuki," he said quietly. "You haven't let up about it even when some of the others were ready to quit. If he doesn't decide to come back, I'm tempted to go out there and let him know myself what kind of a friend he'd be passing up."

Surprised, Miaka smiled. "Thanks, big brother." She hugged him. "Uh…maybe you'd better go check on the chicken, though…" she added with a sniff.

"Oh, crap!" He ran back down the hall.

Giggling quietly, Miaka headed back into her room. Keisuke's comment had left a happy glow in her heart that pushed out some of her unease. She sat back down at her desk and looked at the next word on her list.

"_Pariah"? What the heck? _She picked up her English-Japanese dictionary and flipped through it. _Oh…yosomono. _She picked up the thesaurus again, paging through. _Outcast, _she wrote down. _Stranger. Outlaw._ She chewed on the end of her pencil, looking down at the carefully written letters. _He was an outlaw in his own world, but he didn't run from us like this. What do I say to him so he doesn't run anymore?_

She was mostly lost in thought as she glanced into her thesaurus and jotted down one last synonym.

---

They ended up being last to arrive at Taka's. "I'm sorry!" she apologized hastily to everyone as they came in. It was half past eight, already half an hour later than they'd meant to leave.

"She spaced out doing her homework," Keisuke explained dryly. "I had to help her." They'd had to eat in a hurry—not that that was difficult for Miaka.

"Oh, Miaka," Yui groaned. "Why didn't you just call me? I could've helped you." Miaka hugged her best friend sheepishly.

"Well, are we ready to go?" Ryuen jumped up. "The rain's slowed down some, but there's supposed to be another front coming through before too long. I hope everybody's got umbrellas."

"I've got a few extra," Hiroshi said, reaching into his bag and taking out a few folded umbrellas.

"Dang, Mitsukake." Shou was peering into Mitsukake's briefcase, and he pulled out the first aid kit, yet another collapsible umbrella, a thermos of something, an extra rain poncho, and a medical book. "What _didn't_ you come prepared for?"

"I won't be a great deal of help if anyone gets shot tonight," Hiroshi replied blandly. "I'd rather no one did." He reclaimed his briefcase from Shou and repacked it.

They trooped out to Keisuke's car all together. The rain had dwindled to a light mist. "If Tasuki decides to come back, he may not be able to leave right away," Keiji said. "We don't have room for him in the car, so I'll stay with him and help him until he can come with me."

"You _will _remember to let us know, won't you?" Karuko said dryly. "Not that I mind guests, but being able to _prepare _for them is so helpful…"

Keiji chuckled. "There's room for him at my place, though I can't guess ahead of time what he'll prefer, you know. I _will _call when I know what he's decided to do."

A silence fell, and Shou spoke into it, haltingly, as if he couldn't keep the words back. "What happens if he doesn't come back?"

Shou's eyes were fixed on Chichiri. Hiroshi laid a hand lightly on Shou's shoulder, but Shou shook it off.

Keiji sighed. "Then he doesn't," he said quietly. "And we leave him alone and respect his choice even if we don't agree with it." He glanced around at everyone. "There's a difference between trying as hard as we can and doing everything we can do, and hurting someone who's already in pain. If he _really _wants to be left alone…then we don't have any other choice."

Shou turned and stalked back into the apartment building.

Hiroshi took a step to follow, but Yui touched his arm lightly. "I'll talk to him," she promised softly. Hiroshi nodded, took a deep breath, and got into the front passenger seat.

Miaka squeezed into the middle between Keiji and Karuko. She leaned over Karuko to look out the window at the forlorn-looking group standing on the sidewalk. "It'll be okay," she said fiercely, feeling an oddly protective pang. "Just keep thinking good things."

Taka moved forward past Tetsuya and Yui. "Be careful," he said, looking right into Miaka's eyes. "Bring him back, all right?"

Miaka's face broke into a smile as Ryuen started the car. She nodded. As they pulled away, she twisted around to watch through the back window; Taka merely stood on the step while Yui and Tetsuya waved, but he was the last to turn back toward the apartment. Then Ryuen turned a corner and the building slid out of sight.

Miaka settled back into place between her friends. _I promise, _she thought, and not to Taka. _I promise I won't leave you out there alone._

---

Taiten's evening just wasn't getting any better at all.

His boss had appeared downstairs early, dressed to go. He'd snapped at his lagging soldiers precisely to form. He'd responded to their jokes, made a few of his own, and done an entirely too casual toss with his dagger, one of the more complicated ones, before they departed. He hadn't even looked at the blade as he snagged it out of the air and resheathed it. He'd been looking directly at Taiten.

Taiten got the message loud and clear. _Keep your mouth shut._

Taiten had plenty of experience keeping his mouth shut. Even if he didn't, what would he tell the others? _The boss isn't himself. _Too vague. _The boss is acting fucking creepy. _No good. _The boss acted fucking creepy before, especially when he was drunk. This is a new kind of creepy._

That distinction would be beyond the comprehension of most of the gang. His boss was good at picking guys who were easily intimidated, and Taiten would be the first to admit that his boss was a pro at intimidation. _He's got good reason. He's fucking bright, and fought his way up from the bottom. So at the bottom of his own gang, he keeps the slow ones and the ones he can control._

_The smart ones, the ones like me, he places high. Using our minds, and keeping us close. Who was it that said to keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? _Taiten glanced briefly over to the boss in the passenger seat. He was staring out the windshield, his posture relaxed, but he had that abstracted look again, which made Taiten feel unexpectedly frustrated. _What the _fuck _is going on with him? Is he having some kind of slow breakdown? Goddamnit, if he's going to shut down I wish he'd do it all at once and get it the fuck over with. How long before he starts giving orders that aren't in anyone's best interest? _

"Stop the car," the boss said.

Taiten jumped, and the van swerved a little; there were shouts of protest from the back. Trying not to swallow, he turned the van into the shoulder and stopped, and looked at his boss.

The gang leader frowned, but not at Taiten. "…Something the matter?" Taiten finally asked.

The boss opened the door. "I've got to take care of something. Go on ahead and go back when it's over. I'll meet you there." He climbed out.

Taiten stared at him. _Is this a good thing or a bad thing? If he spaces out in the middle of a fight, he could get someone killed, but… _"You sure you don't want to take anyone with you?" he ventured.

The boss turned around, and only long practice kept Taiten from recoiling from the glare on his face. "Go," he said icily.

_All right, that's it, then. We do this, and if he doesn't come back…he doesn't come back. Fuck him, he asked for it. _"Yes, sir," he said very softly, putting the van back into gear. As he drove off, he glanced in the rear view mirror. The boss turned away, and walked off into the haze of the thickening rain.

---

Miaka looked around the little park.

_It's really depressing, _she thought. There was something strange about it, with the slight wind moving the empty swings and the partly-disassembled merry-go-round. The sandbox was full of sludge, rungs were missing from the slides, and there were so many cracks in the paved area that the weeds mostly obscured the hopscotch and foursquare fields.

She glanced at the bench. She wandered toward it, away from the others, who were in a huddle under their umbrellas. She laid a hand lightly along the back of the bench, looking down at it, and then around. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought maybe she _did _feel a trace of Tasuki here.

_He stood right there, maybe, and put me down. Why here, I wonder? Well, there's the police patrol. Keisuke said they told him a cruiser comes by here pretty often. Checking for drug dealers, I guess. _She smiled wryly. _I hope they don't come by while we're here, and arrest us for looking suspicious! _

She looked around at the dilapidated equipment again. Closed her eyes. _Maybe…he has some connection with this place. Something about it that's important to him…_

"Miaka?"

She looked up. Ryuen was beckoning to her. She walked back toward the group.

"Okay… let's get started," Keiji said. "I'll try and help you all I can, Miaka. Focus hard on Tasuki. I don't know if you'll actually get in contact with him, but if you do, focus on this place. We'll all be backing you up." Keiji looked around. "This could take a little while." He headed to the bench, and threw Hiroshi's extra poncho over it. Miaka sat down, and shared an umbrella with Ryuen. The drizzle was thickening to actual rain again, and the wind was picking up in a way that promised harder rain to come.

Karuko sat down on the other side of her, and Hiroshi stood behind the bench. Keiji moved off a little ways, forgoing an umbrella. "Whenever you're ready, Miaka."

"All right." She closed her eyes again. Her forehead creased slowly into a frown, and gingerly she brought forward the memory of her kidnapping. The apartment. The hard slap to her face—she shook her head a little, shuddering, and felt Ryuen's hand lightly on her shoulder, calming. _Go on. Further. _She saw him standing with his back to her, shaking. Just in shock, or overcome by horror by what he'd done? She wasn't sure.

_The expression on his face when he looked at me…_ _It was like he thought he'd never be forgiven, but wanted it so much. Tasuki, please…give us a chance to help…_

She could feel the others around her, vaguely, bolstering her. Encouraged, she squeezed Ryuen's hand, and pictured the playground around her as vividly as she could. _We're waiting._

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, as focused as she could remember ever being. But suddenly an image flooded her mind, strongly enough to disrupt her thoughts. She saw herself, lying on the bench, face composed in deep sleep; a little weary, but calm and beautiful. A black-gloved hand touched her cheek lightly.

Then it was gone, leaving her concentration broken. She blinked her eyes open. Ryuen looked at her anxiously. "What's wrong?" he murmured.

Miaka looked to her left, toward where Keiji was standing. He stood stiffly with his back to them, staring toward the gate in the fence.

An indistinct figure was slowly detaching itself from the drab surroundings, approaching the rusty fence around the playground. Steady steps from heavy boots marked his progress until he reached the gate. He opened it with a strangely gentle swing that made the rust-caked hinges screech. Raindrops pattered on the shoulders of his leather jacket and dripped down his face from his soaked hair. He splashed in shallow puddles as he crossed the paved area, stopping in the middle.

He stood there, staring at Keiji. His face was mostly expressionless, lips set in a thin line. His dark eyes flicked to the figures on the bench, and then back to Keiji. He took his hands out of his pockets slowly.

"Tasuki," Keiji began; he stopped when Tasuki reached into his unzipped jacket and pulled out his knife. Tasuki twirled it in his hand, flipped it into the air, and caught it one-handed without ever taking his eyes from Keiji. He shifted his weight, and Miaka gulped. _What's he doing? He's not going to fight Chichiri, is he?_

"I told ya not to come back," Tasuki said in a low, cold voice. "You're not a very good listener, are ya?"

---

**End Chapter 7**

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